The Edge
by suspensegirl
Summary: Post 3x13 - 3x14 promos and webclips included - Chuck's obsession to find his mother drives him to the other side of the world, with an insistent Blair coming along with him. DARK FIC
1. Stark Obsession

A/N: Okay, so I definitely was not planning on starting another multi-chaptered story, but I _so_ cannot fit this SL into a 3-part fic and I'm too inspired to drop it. I will however have to drop the other two BoB preview fics I was going to start along with DaP. I just can't possibly keep up with _6_ multi-chaptered fics. Heh. I hope you enjoy this though. I'm going off of the SB talk webclip for 3x14 and the promos for 3x14. I probably won't be able to see the 3x14 episode until the Sunday following it, so please don't tell me anything in regards to it, except the webclip I'm going off of and the promos until after I make it known that I've seen it. Heh. It'd be much appreciated. ;p I'm sure the show won't go to such extremes as I'm going to do in this story, but the idea came to me in an incredibly intense dream last night. I'm really very satisfied with how things are going on the show and had no intention of writing a story off of the SL, but I can't help myself. This is post 3x13, and definitely a dark fic. I hope you enjoy. =)

*I own nothing, unfortunately.

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**Ch.1—Stark Obsession**

The dark blue swirl pattern on the carpeting beneath her feet hadn't changed in the last ten minutes. She hadn't expected it to. The hope that something would change might have stirred in an almost nonexistent surprise when the design did not alter the shade of its color or the way in which it curved its form. She so desired change. But it had not happened in the last three weeks, and now she found herself drowning in foolishness for thinking anything otherwise.

Chuck was rummaging about in the adjoining room. The door was ajar to the room she stood in and she could hear him rushing around, fast-paced from one side of the room to the other, almost frantic. He had tossed papers about on more than one occasion. Something appeared to be missing. On this particular morning though, she did not ask what he was looking for. She knew.

It was a luxurious hotel they resigned in halfway across the world. It was also the third one they'd approached and slept in since they had arrived three weeks earlier. They did not stay in the penthouse of any of the hotels, much less this one, cradled mysteriously on the urban side of the city. Blair could see smoke rising from distant factories. It was still detestable, much like the shelters for homeless people back home in New York, but she did not grimace at them anymore.

The noise lessened in the other room and she knew he had found what he was looking for. Every night he lost it and every morning he found it. She had been awfully suspicious of his doings during the day and heartbroken for his soul for awhile now, but she didn't speak of it anymore. There didn't seem to be much point to it. That didn't mean the feelings hadn't intensified from her first outburst. She was strong-willed. He knew this when he'd conceded to let her come with him. With each aggressive response though, she was afraid he'd leave one morning and not come back to her. He was not himself. He was obsessed with the woman he believed to be his mother, the woman who had never showed to meet with him after that anticlimactic event almost four weeks earlier. She had taken off for Taiwan, apparently, and Chuck was determined to find her. In the course of all their time together, flitting across the crowded city, that was all she had gotten out of him.

"I'll be back tonight," he said gruffly, shutting the door behind him before she could respond. She didn't even turn to the direction his voice had come. She had become accustomed to his neutral, ignorant behavior, particularly in the last week and a half. She knew he was getting desperate, losing control, running out of resources.

Her eyes blinked slowly, still staring across the fume-stained part of the city she'd been aggravated with when they got there eight days prior. Now she was numb and it took a great effort to turn away from the clear-paned window and move from the dimly lit maroon covered bedroom and into the pale mahogany sitting room.

Papers were still scattered across the large table on the far side of the room. She could see where he'd walked and what had moved around him when he'd been there. He'd forgotten the freshly baked bagel she'd called in for him early that morning before he was awake. It didn't really hurt that he'd forgotten what she did for him than it hurt that he was going without eating. They hardly were around each other, but when she doubted his care for her entirely, she would get peonies sent to the room and the finest room service delivering her meals at the appropriate times. She used to get little notes that told her he loved her, but those had vanished entirely in the last few days. A couple of times a young girl had called asking for him. He'd stolen the phone away the moment she'd questioned the girl's name, and he'd talked to the mystery woman (or wom_en_, perhaps) for nearly an hour. Blair forced herself not to consider infidelity a possibility. When she realized for the first time the day before that he'd found a way around kissing her during the entire time they'd been there, she became concerned. The night before he'd sensed it, despite the clouded mind he was always lost in, and he'd kissed her soundly on the lips before holding her in his arms as they slept. It had been the only time during the entire trip that she'd felt she was not alone in the room designed for two. In the morning the revived intimacy was gone, and she could hardly stand it.

_"This isn't New York, Chuck. She's not in the city anymore."_

_His eyebrows narrowed. "She is, and I'll find her."_

The little argument had brought her restraint on tears to an end, and she'd burst out despite herself. She had shaken her head violently and cursed herself for showing the weakness in what should have been his constant support throughout it all. The last two weeks had erased most of the emotions from his face, but when she cried she saw how he broke for her. She was afraid to have him hold her, though she did not think it would happen until it did. She did not want him to send her away. Her ability to fight him off in that regard had lessened considerably. The gentle kiss set her restless tension free and she was able to breathe that night, even if she could not deepen the kiss enough to convince him to make love to her. It still had been a breakthrough.

The still tension had returned in the morning. He'd hardly said two words to her, and she wasn't always numb. A great deal of the time she spent in silent mourning, waiting in the eerie silence of the room for him to return. Three weeks earlier she'd taken advantage of the foreign country as an excuse for shopping excursions, but when it became clear that his time with her was waning considerably, she abandoned any potential desire she might have had for the city, and stayed in the hotel room.

She missed Serena, but knew it would not be wise to let on what was happening with Chuck half-way across the world. When she'd informed her that Chuck wanted to get away with her for some time, her blonde best friend accepted the excuse immediately in light of Bart's recent death anniversary. It was delayed, true, but that did not seem to register in the head of the blonde who was flitting off to trysts with Nate multiple times a week, if not per day. Blair had left the world behind when she'd taken off with Chuck to Taiwan. A few days into the trip she'd realized how serious the situation had become. They hadn't been in the first hotel for more than two hours before she'd called the NYU admission's office and dropped out of the spring semester. Chuck was not in the room to catch that conversation.

Blair tried desperately to hold onto something real. She knew it was not in her best interest to intervene, but somehow the empty cycle Chuck had fallen into once again had to come to a halt. She took a deep breath, plastered on her best fake smile, so it'd shine in through the phone and dialed the number she'd spotted resting on the face of Chuck's phone a few days earlier. She memorized it to perfection in the case she would need it, and she knew she would.

"My name's Blair Waldorf," she said smoothly, "is Andrew Tyler available? I need to speak with him immediately."

* * *

The sandy beaches of Sydney, Australia used to captivate her. The hot breeze that surrounded her and brushed past her fair skin and spring dress used to ease her in the most incredible way. Now on the balcony leading out of his office, she hardly felt herself worthy of ease and relaxation.

"This is wrong," she said softly. Her voice sounded choked with tears. Inside the office the man cleared his throat but said nothing. He either hadn't heard what she'd said or was choosing to ignore it.

Her hands rubbed along her upper arms briefly as if she shivered from the cold. The whole warming atmosphere was nothing but bitter to her now. It would never be the beautiful place she knew it to be before her life had burst into flames at least twenty years earlier.

"Have you no conscience?" she asked, turning around in a flurry. Her skirt spun with her. Her auburn hair tied part-way up danced around her neck of the softest skin. The man sitting behind the desk finally looked up at her. He seemed very appreciative of her still quite attractive figure, and the smirk that lit up his eyes was no doubt intentional.

"Define the word 'conscience', Ms. Fisher," he requested politely, leaning back in his chair. Her eyes searched his face but found his hungry gaze unbearable and looked back out at the ocean, wishing she could spot a distant island to escape to, if only by the talent of her own swimming skills. She was an excellent swimmer.

The ocean lay bare to nothing but the water and the sky meeting on a distant horizon.

"Thinking and _acting_ on or for something or some_one_ other than yourself," she said, sounding quite intelligent in her definition, quite fiery too. The man stood from the seat behind his desk and walked around it towards her. His eyebrows were raised in amusement.

"You are always surprising me, Elizabeth. I did not realize you had such a close relationship with Mr. Webster." He leaned against the doorway leading out to the balcony. She could almost feel his smirk against the curve of her throat, or the way he'd undress her with his eyes when she wasn't looking. She visibly tensed and knew that he was enjoying it. He always seemed to take great pride in making her feel uncomfortable.

"As far as your question," he folded his arms across his chest, and directed his focus to the subject at hand. "I believe that definition is left up to interpretation."

She wasn't angry, didn't turn around in a fury and show him the pure hatred resting in her eyes because of what he had forced her into every day of her life for the last eighteen years. He would enjoy that too much. She would have to retreat to her room and hide from him for the rest of the day. He had a key to the lock she always used when alone in the room he'd given her to keep away in. But he hadn't used it yet. For that she was grateful.

"He's just a _child_," she said weakly.

The man's face changed into a stone cold disfigurement of his cocky self. He never showed compassion for _anyone_, despite how broken they might have sounded. He didn't like her switch from accusations directed at him to endless compassion and sympathy for the nephew he'd vowed to destroy. It was harder to counter, though not impossible, as he always reminded himself.

"…he's believed his entire life that he killed me in childbirth. Bart's let him believe it," she choked, gasping for a moment in time at the tragedy of her statement. She turned back around to face the man who's expression now seemed uncertain.

"How can you let him believe that?"

His eyebrows narrowed. "We all have our secrets, Elizabeth. To keep them, we must make sacrifices."

Her lips parted as he turned away from her and stepped back into the office, closing the glass door behind him, unaware of any call she might make out to him. He'd heard many over the last three weeks. It would not be something he hadn't heard before.

The dusty air was treacherous. She wished she could glory in it, use it against the soulless man behind the glass door. There was nothing he hadn't done to her that she wished she had never done. He had invaded her in every way, and always against her will. She knew she should have avoided Bart's grave on the anniversary of his death. She had thought the lateness of the hour would be a safe time. No one had recognized her for eighteen years, three of which she had gone into hiding and changed her identity completely. There was no way she could have known that the one person to reveal her secret would arrive just as she was in the midst of her tears over the man who would always believe she had betrayed him.

The glass door slid open again, and very hesitantly she turned to face the stony figure again. He was eyeing her with blank desire and she feared he would not take her again.

"No, _Jack_," she begged. His eyes glittered, almost maliciously as they pinned her to her spot on the marble deck. She did not look afraid, had mastered the cover-up of that particular emotion, but neither did she look eager to partake in what he had in mind.

"Come, _Evelyn_," he smirked wickedly, holding out his hand to her, "I would like to show you something in my bedroom" he said darkly. The constant threat loomed over her as she contemplated what choice she actually had in the matter. She had never had a choice from the very beginning, not if she valued the life of her only son.

She slipped her hand in his lazy hold. His fingers tightened around hers. The sick feeling swallowing up her stomach stirred again. Her mind went dizzy and she cursed herself for not having the strength to simply slip in through the doorway and follow him into his room. Because of this he had to slip his dangerous arm around her waist to assist her.

"My name is Elizabeth," she repeated as a mantra.

"Mmm," he murmured against her ear. "Indeed, Elizabeth Fisher."

* * *

A/N: Well, that's chapter 1! =D Review! Oh, and if you're confused about something, that's normal. Lol. I intend for this to be sufficiently confusing until the end. It is going to be a great, dark mystery. One that I hope you will enjoy solving. ;)


	2. In His Head

A/N: Wow! Thanks for the incredible response! Very much appreciated. And even though I should probably be updating one of my other fics, this one drives me on… ;D please review! I hope you enjoy.

*I do not own Gossip Girl, much less Chuck & Blair

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**Ch.2 –In His Head **

_No luck._

Andrew Tyler hadn't told her anything, no matter how persuasive she had been. Money was not a good wager with the man. Whatever she offered, Chuck had offered better, and the P.I. knew he would offer still more if the subject was brought to his attention. Somehow she wasn't worried about Chuck finding out. After three weeks he must've assumed she would do something. She hadn't meddled for so long, but if he was human for even a second, he'd know she was worried and she would try to help. At least she hoped he realized. To have his trust in her betrayed again would not make matters any better.

She would try again tomorrow. That man had to have a breaking point. If it came to it though, she would find her own means of discovering the mysteries Chuck refused to share. There had to be _some_ reason that they had stayed at this hotel and not some ritzy one on the _decent_ side of town. It killed her that Chuck didn't let her in enough to tell her even that. They had come too far in their relationship for him to just shut her out when he probably needed her the most. Amidst her convictions and swimming thoughts, she'd decided during the day that even if he sent her away, she'd return. There was no way she'd let him get lost in his own misery again.

The door opened, almost with a creak and Blair's eyes opened wide. She sprung to her feet and tried to restrain her giddy feet from prancing out into the main room. _He was back. Before midnight._ It was something to be excited about. Maybe there were new developments. _Developments that would take them home._

"Chuck!" she exclaimed, with fervor but almost in a worried tone. She was hoping the earlier time would make him sweeter, softer to her, but her face fell the minute she witnessed his neat appearance and sullen expression. Her arms hung limp at her sides. He didn't even so much as look up at her when she called his name. It was as if he hadn't even heard her.

"Chuck?" she asked, walking hesitantly towards him. Her feet didn't make so much as a squeak on the soft carpeting. She'd disposed of heels and shoes long ago. She didn't even remember what it was like to be outside. _Maybe that was an exaggeration_, she thought. It had only been maybe a week or so since she'd last been outside, but it certainly felt like an eternity. She still couldn't believe Chuck had actually kissed and held her the night before. Even that seemed like a dream.

His eyes flicked up to her and then back down again. He slipped his shoes off and moved to the table, rummaging through his papers again. Blair sighed and moved towards him again, very slowly.

"We could order…" she tried, but he cut her off.

"I already ate."

She took a deep breath. "I'm sure take out delicacies are nothing like—"

"I ate at a restaurant."

She blinked, searching for words to say through her own trauma. They hardly saw each other now it seemed. Conversation had definitely almost become nonexistent. He knew that she only spent the days wasting away, waiting for her to come back to him, didn't he? Why would he go eat somewhere without her?

"The restaurants around here aren't very classy I'm sure…" she trailed off, hoping she'd catch onto a clever string of sorts.

"I was on the other side of town. It was fine dining," he sighed, clearly giving up on searching for some prized possession on the cluttered table. He glanced around the room briefly before loosening his tie and moving past her into the bedroom. Her lips parted, almost breathless when his gaze landed on hers for a fraction of a second. The dull color in his eyes, emotionless, expressionless, chilled her to the bone and then it was gone in a flash. He was almost rough against her when he moved into the bedroom. He didn't close the door behind him, but he may as well have. So shut out was she from the small distance between them.

She spotted the bagel sitting on the corner from several hours earlier. She walked over to it, examined it, traced lines against its curves, wondered when Chuck would do something like that to her again. She dumped the bagel into the trash and looked back at the bedroom. Now the door was only opened a crack and just a dim light shone from the inside.

_The door opened slowly, carefully, almost as if the person entering were afraid he'd wake someone if he came in normally. Blair sat prim and proper on the bed with her suitcase sitting beside her. She was not smiling, but neither did she seem down on herself. Her expression almost appeared playful as Chuck turned his face away from the door and towards her._

_ "Blair," he said. His tone shone every ounce of his shock._

_ "Chuck," she replied coyly, adjusting herself ever so slightly on the bed. He sighed, and walked steadily towards her._

_ "Why are you packed?" he asked dryly, pointing in a wavy gesture to the luggage she had seated beside her. She looked to the bag beside her and stood to her feet, sauntering towards him. When she was within reach of him, she took one final step to close the distance between them and wrapped her arms lazily around his neck._

_ "I got the feeling you might be running away again, and I'll be damned if you don't let me come with you this time," she said matter-of-factly, still with that cheery tone in her voice. He could find the vulnerable hitch easily though. He knew right then and there she wouldn't willingly stay behind._

_ "Blair –"_

_ "You've been hiding something from me, Chuck." The playful act was gone. His eyes zeroed in on hers, searching wildly for its fiery source. "And…" she sighed, averting his gaze momentarily and toying softly with the collar of his shirt. "if you're not going to tell me any time soon, you have to at least let me come with you to find your answers. I deserve that, Chuck."_

_ He swallowed hard, his eyes still searching hers. "It won't be good for you, Blair. This is something I have to do on my own, for me."_

_ "You won't even know I'm there." She smiled softly, then her expression changed as if she'd just remembered something. "Except when you need me, of course. Though obviously I don't even know if you do," she chuckled lightly._

_ His concerned brows furrowed and he cupped her face firmly in the palm of his hands. "I always need you, Blair. That's never going to change." He looked her deeply in the eyes, willing her to believe it. "And since when are you invisible to anybody? You thrive on making sure people, myself included, know you are there and that they listen to you," he chuckled, putting on a playful air. The butterflies swelled up inside her that she'd brought it out of him. He dropped his gaze to her lips and kissed her soundly on the mouth. When they parted he was near breathless. A genuine smirk slipped through onto her lips._

_ "Go pack," she whispered, almost seductively. He returned her smirk and his eyes glittered as he looked at her one final time before moving towards his closet and dresser. She turned around and gazed at him longingly._

_ So much for his conviction that she couldn't – wouldn't – come along, he thought. Who was he kidding? He needed her._

With a brave determination she did not know she still had in her, she forced her feet to walk firmly on the floor beneath them and head towards the bedroom. The words he'd told her the day they left rung in her ears. She'd forgotten them, and now felt foolish for it. They were words she could have held on all this time if she had not been blinded by her grief, and _his_.

She pushed the door open lightly and found Chuck pouring over some letter that had apparently been left in the drawer of the lamp stand on his side of the bed. He was so focused on it, so intent on what he said and what it must mean to him.

"Chuck?" she asked, standing warily in the doorway. His eyes rose just a little, but it was only to inspect something farther down on the bed. _Another letter._ She looked to the window and saw that it was dark out. She was in shock for about a minute following. Somehow it had seemed so much earlier because it wasn't midnight and Chuck had returned. In reality it was 9 o'clock. _No wonder he had already eaten._

She resigned to closing the drapes, even if she knew no one could see them. She did not try to seduce Chuck into a sexual act tonight, like she had done several times throughout their "trip". He was no longer interested. He wasn't moved in the slightest way when she shed her garments. She changed quickly into a loose nightie and slid into the bed beside him. For a little bit it almost appeared as though he was irritated that she was so close to him.

Bravely, she asked, "Kiss me, Chuck?" She had demanded it before, but everything seemed so fragile now, so different from that first week in the first hotel when he'd opened up a little and they'd made love until the sun rose, despite the circumstances.

He sighed, clearly annoyed. "Not tonight Blair."

Her eyes fluttered. It was _one kiss_. Though she would definitely have enjoyed the sex that might have followed, she would have been satisfied with that single kiss. She so longed for his touch and she was afraid to touch him now without his consent. He was acting now like all the intimacy he could have ever partaken in with her was drawn out the night before. Now the stock was empty…and cold.

"I'm just asking for a kiss, Chuck. Nothing m—"

He looked up at her finally, his eyes filled with a fire she did not like. She felt like she was in a room with a rapist or a killer. She hated the feeling. The man she loved was just inches away. This was _her_ he was talking to. She would give anything to see a vulnerable, lost, frustrated Chuck instead of this angry, hate-filled man who so clearly was restraining his rage when she was the target. For a glimpse she saw that part of him wanted to kiss her, but he quickly recovered like touching her would be a crime, a sin he would never commit.

"It's late," he said simply, tossing the papers to the side. "Sleep is a better remedy I think." His lips pursed and he flipped the light switch. The room was swallowed up in darkness. Blair was almost gaping but finally she settled down into the bed. She faced him and tried to cuddle, but he was turned away and hard as a rock. She forced herself not to cry.

* * *

The late afternoon sun streamed over the silk covers, wrapping the two of them in a warming light. It looked like the perfect set-up where a couple of lovers would wake up beside each other after resting from prior passionate activities. It was the perfect temperature in the room and the breeze slipping in from the sea overwhelmed her senses.

Jack and Elizabeth were not lovers though. She had followed his lead for too long and so could no longer suggest that he had kidnapped her, but he was blackmailing her in a way. When he dragged her – "willingly" – to his bed now (or hers), she just pretended he was someone else, someone that didn't exist anymore.

Carefully she uncovered herself from the silken sheets, grateful that this time around Jack had not ended up smothering her with his large arms and grubby fingers. She always felt like she was suffocating when they ended up in that particular predicament. At least when he used her as his sex machine there was the cool Sydney breeze that flew between them and gave her room to breathe. She didn't know why he couldn't pick on some young twenty-something year olds along the beach instead of her. She was in her early forties and not the prettiest of the lot, just enough to lure the sickest of all human beings – apparently. She wasn't even sure if he was one anymore. It was a similar thought that had drowned her senses the first time she'd met him.

"No." He caught hold of her wrist before she could move entirely away from the bed. Her eyes flashed to his.

"Bathroom, Jack."

His eyes narrowed. "Don't play that trick on me. You're trying to escape again."

Her eyes searched his, restraining the drive to lash out at him. She had to keep her actions in check. "I don't have a bag packed. Where would I go? What would I do? It's not like you wouldn't notice if I took off on a plane or even on a boat."

"True," he said, his eyes roving all over her face. "And you know if you went to the police and reported me for kidnapping, the news would reach Taiwan and Chuck would fall right into my trap." He smirked.

She shuddered, finally ripping her arm out of his grasp. "Isn't that what you want?" she glowered at him. He relaxed back into the bed, reclining against the headboard with his hands crossed behind his head.

"I admit it would speed things up a little, but then he wouldn't suffer nearly as much, and we can't have that." His eyes glittered as he turned to the table beside him and took a sip of his alcoholic beverage always constant in whatever vicinity he resided in. It made her angry how much he was enjoying this.

"What drives you to this?" she asked softly, barely a whisper. He cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his lap.

"Revenge is a pretty good motivation I would say," he said, bringing the clear glass to him and holding it between his hands while keeping his gaze maintained on hers.

"And what has my son done to you that you need to punish him for? From what you've told me, enough damage has been done. Using his weak willpower against him, seducing his girlfriend?" her strength wavered in her words. His eyes hardened. "It's not his fault that Bart left the majority of his inheritance to him."

Jack uncovered himself and slipped his boxers on. She had covered herself in a robe long before leaving his bed. He had done no such thing. He enjoyed the expression the ladies gave to him, whether disgust or a reviving lust, when he stood in the nude and often in the bathing sun in his bedroom. Elizabeth turned away, gazing out through the blinds on the window resting just above the bed. She used conversation to keep the sickening smirk from reappearing on his face.

"Despite the manipulative behavior deemed to you Bass men, he doesn't deserve what you've done to him." She shook her head and crossed the room, finding her clothes and picking them up as she headed towards the door. Jack did not matter so much now since he was heading in the same direction.

"It is not Chuck that is the cause of my anger."

She turned around in a flurry and her eyes searched his face, looking for a trace of humanity, compassion, anything besides this monster she was forced to live with.

"He is just the only candidate that will suit my purposes properly."

She scoffed, moving through the doorway and heading towards the bathroom where she had originally set out to go. The clothes would be wrinkled when she put them on and she knew it would give him joy to see the state he had brought her to. It would be another dagger he'd use against the younger Bass.

"And just what do you hope to achieve through all this?" she asked, her eyes bursting into flames under his cocky, casual analyzing of her body. He moved towards her and tried pulling her to him with a rough tug on her chin. She recoiled when his lips neared hers, just like she did every time he took her to bed with him.

"I can't tell you all my secrets, Miss Fisher. Some things must be left as surprises," he winked at her and a rumble of satisfaction filled him as she lost her resolve for half a second and gaped. It truly was not a new revelation that he had shown her, but still she was at a loss for words. Remaining around such cruelty had never been something she'd wanted to endure, but somehow she willed herself to stay. All the questions that she had were answered and unanswered with every word he spoke, and every day when he spoke them anew. So desperately she wanted to escape from the villainy that spread out of him like the air out of another much purer human being. But the love of a mother blinded all judgment and allowed things to happen that ought never to be allowed, or lied about.

* * *

_Gasp!_

Blair flung up from her tangled mess in the sheets, sweating profusely. Her hair was all disarray and it took her awhile to realize that she was no longer in the twisted nightmare she'd dreamt up, but the dark hotel room in which she'd spent almost every waking minute for the last week and a half. She calmed herself, repeated inwardly how it was _just a dream_. Though when she turned to her side, felt around and realized Chuck was no longer there, she panicked. She could handle it no longer, and in her frustration and heartbreak, she screamed at the top of her lungs, clenching the bed sheets tightly with her tense fingertips. She was restless and could not handle the fact that the only reason Chuck had come back early was because he was going to leave again in the middle of the night – _3:00am_ to be exact.

She screamed again, and then dashing in from the outer realms of the hotel suite came Chuck, looking like a knight in shining armor in the moonlight streaming in from the distant window.

"What's wrong?!" he asked, sounding and looking just about as panicked as she felt. She was still breathing heavily, unevenly when she managed to shake her head.

"N-nothing," she forced. He stood there, still looking panicked, his eyes stuck on hers. He flipped on the light switch. She winced at the sudden bright illumination sending away the darkness. His shoulders looked relaxed now, but he still stood in the doorway unmoving.

"Why did you scream then?" he asked, almost demanding but in the softest voice she'd ever heard. She swallowed hard, debating whether it had been because of the nightmare or the conviction she had had that he was no longer beside her, or both, and also if she should tell him the truth when she knew it.

"Just a nightmare," she said, somewhat confidently as she heard just then that the shower was running. "What are you doing?" she asked, changing the subject before he had reason to question it further. "Taking a shower?"

He nodded.

"I woke up in a sweat and just had to get rid of it." He almost chuckled, and her eyes lit up but not only for that reason. He had woken up the same as she had. It gave her a little comfort that maybe she wasn't alone. There was a thought in the back of her mind that maybe they should take the shower together, maybe even make love against the pounding water, that maybe that might bring them closer.

"Oh," she said instead. He turned to leave and blurted. "Are you leaving after that?"

"No," he shook his head. "Well…" he sighed. She begged mentally that he would open up to her, that they could fix the situation _together_. But then she remembered what she had told him at the very start of it all. _You won't even know I'm there. _So much for that declaration, she thought. Waking up and screaming had a way of alerting people. She sighed inwardly.

"I don't know. There may be a way to find out more at this time of night."

_Find out what?_

She nearly cried in her desperation, but he was once again oblivious to her actions, lost in his own thoughts. He didn't notice when she slunk back on the headboard and hit her head. She winced for about half a second before recovering. He didn't notice the thick droplets of sweat decorating her face, legs and arms. He didn't see how forlorn she was just watching him. He was too lost in his own thoughts to think of anything but the need to uncover the buried secrets that had inched farther and farther away since he'd arrived in the destination halfway across the world with the brunette in tow.

"Shower," she reminded him, deciding not to inform him that she was okay now. His eyes flicked back to hers.

"Right. Thanks," he turned away from her, not so much bothering as to shut the door as he trudged off to the bathroom and lost himself in the scathing hot water pouring out of the showerhead. Blair looked around her, trying to find some cause of comfort that would draw her back into sleep. She could find nothing and tears began to drip down her face quietly. They mixed with the sweat still on her skin and threatened to consume her, destroy what she was trying so hard to keep steady in the chaos that had swallowed up her Chuck.

Without warning, she climbed out of the bed, wrapped a sheer robe around her form and moved into the main room. There on the far side was a glass door leading to a small balcony, hundreds of floors above the ground. She would still feel trapped, she knew, but the fresh air would do her good and give her the sanctuary she would need if the tension built up in her scream returned. The glass door was sound proof, and the addition of pounding water would block it from Chuck's ears. He would not hear it. He would not even hear if an assassin came around right then and killed her. She wondered for an instant if that would not be better. Maybe Chuck would wake up from this nightmare and focus on her and what they were instead of this desperate search to find his mother. Then again, maybe it would be just the traumatic even to make everything worse. That thought alone made her hesitant on the balcony. She could not hurt him _more_.

Alone on the balcony, the crisp cool air enveloped her. She wondered what had happened between Chuck's irritance that she was "too close" to him and his sudden worry that she'd screamed in the night. Maybe he could only center on her late in the night, she pondered. Then again, he could have just been worried that somehow her scream would have messed with his secret plans, that some individual would disappear completely from the spot maybe Chuck had captured him…

Blair shook her head in anguish at the thoughts that filled her soul. Would this madness ever end? At this point she wondered if he still loved her or if she was just a rat in the corner sometimes demanding his attention. She shuddered at what he must feel or what he was thinking at any moment in time since they'd reached that hotel. Everything had become so much thicker and hidden and distanced between them since they'd arrived at that hotel in particular.

She wished to God she could blame all that had happened on the hotel, but hardly a minute later, she dismissed the notion as complete foolishness. Obviously the reason she was hurting and he was hurting was because of no one but her. She'd encouraged it from the beginning.

* * *

A/N: Well, I hope you liked it! Please review! =D I actually did get to watch the episode last night miraculously, so you do not have to hide your parallels or what not. Obviously my SL is going to be quite different, though who knows? Jack is returning next week and God only knows what madness that'll bring. *gulp*

Review! =D lol


	3. A Little Up, A Little Down

A/N: Well, I am proud of my progress. Lol. Thanks for my continuous reviews. You make this story worth writing. ;p

*I do _not_ own Chuck, Blair or anything else Gossip Girl related.

* * *

**Ch.3—A Little Up, A Little Down**

The phone slammed down on its base and Jack growled angrily at its sound. The true cause of his anger was most likely from the conversation he'd just had with an intimidating, dangerous man that was yet to be named, at least to Elizabeth's knowledge. Slowly she crept out from the behind the shadows and casually leaned against the door frame leading to Jack's office.

"Don't tell me you've miscalculated," she quipped. The three days she'd been nearly silent throughout seemed to have gathered a new energy in her, one she would take full advantage of. Jack looked up at her, and she swore his eye was twitching, if just a bit. He stared for awhile at her, almost as if he couldn't form words but was trying to injure her with his hard, cold, irritating glare.

"Well," she said, pushing off her position on the door frame to walk into his office. "I don't know who this guy is you've been talking to," she continued to walk throughout the room, taunting him with being just out of reach. It seemed she had finally stumbled onto some sort of power where Jack Bass was concerned, and she was not about to let that go without a fight.

"I don't even know how you're planning to lure Chuck in and with what," she said, finally stopping in front of his desk and placing her hands palm down on the smooth wood. "But it does seem to me as though something…" she paused, drawing out the empty silence as long as she could. She could see it was getting to him. "…has gone wrong?"

Jack's angry expression gradually diminished and his clenched hands relaxed. He leaned back in his chair and his arms easily rested on the arms of the chair. The smirk was back and though Elizabeth was not scared by its sight, she wasn't exactly all that pleased with it.

"I believe my tormenting has worn off on you, Evelyn. Bravo."

She forced herself to move past his constant exchange of her old name and the one she currently adorned. She did not want to remember _Evelyn_, though there was a part of her that wished desperately not to forget. She would not let herself get impatient with the man, for as long as she could help it. She did not move and instead searched his face for some sort of answer, one she knew she would not get. Eventually she looked to the other items on his desk and then backed away from it entirely, moving towards the glass doors leading to the balcony facing the sea. She heard Jack scoff and shook her head softly. She spoke before he got another word in.

"Some things belong to me alone, Jack. Chuck did not get all his talents from your brother."

Jack smirked, still seated in the chair behind his desk. "Wit and manipulation, along with arrogance, is purely a Bass trait. All he got from you was some meager coloring in his DNA."

She turned around and looked at him, leaned against the wall. She analyzed him once more. He was still smirking in his seat, and she knew the answer to his little tale but with her eyes she dared him to tell her and she knew he would never back down from a challenge, even an insignificant one.

"Brown hair and brown eyes," he said, looking thoughtful. She did not so much as move a muscle. Both were clearly analyzing each other. Jack realized right then he had miscalculated on one thing. Evelyn was downright predictable before. Now they were on level playing fields and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"I do bring out the pretty side in him, don't I?" she smirked. Her eyes twinkled. His lips parted, but she left the room and went down the hall before he had a chance to say anything. He knew she was not trying to escape. She would have packed bags. He would have heard a door from the main floor close and then open. Thus she had done nothing to cause any sort of malice in him. In fact, he was starting to admire her for standing up to him in the midst of his fury – or, supposed fury. He still convinced himself he hadn't really been angry. There would always be back-up plans. There were back-up plans. Chuck had done nothing to save himself, and Blair Waldorf's feeble attempts to work her way back into her boyfriend's life would come to nothing. Chuck was too obsessed.

_Dazzling in a sparkling silver dress, the brown haired, brown eyed beauty stood in his foyer. He was captivated with her. Every motion she made seemed flawless. He was desperate to know her. He wanted to know her name, her age, her passions in life and how the hell he had gotten so lucky that she'd appeared in his doorway._

_ It was then that his older brother of twenty, Bart, whisked past him on the long staircase and greeted the foreign goddess with a press of his lips to her cheek and the back of her hand. Jack's insides stirred with jealousy. Bart turned around, seeming as to finally have recognized his brother's presence in the vicinity._

_ "Jack," he said astonished. He gestured for the fifteen-year old to come down the stairs, which he did, trying his very best to hide the gloom that now encompassed him. It was not hard with the glowing beauty eyeing him quite curiously. "I'd like you to meet Evelyn Meihinger. She's my date for the evening to the Spring Ball."_

_ He nodded, smiled briefly._

_ "Evelyn, this is my brother Jack," Bart gestured between the two of them. Evelyn smiled and nodded politely in return. The elder Bass brother seemed satisfied and held his arm out for Evelyn to take. "We should be going," he said softly. Delicately she placed her arm around his, only glancing back once before they left to look at Jack. He thought she might say something simply for the sake of being polite – which they seemed very inclined to be – about it being nice to have met him, but she didn't. Just one glance and then she headed out with his older brother. The brother who was always more successful, more honorable, more lucrative, and though it'd been hinted about before, now it was blatantly obvious that he also got the most prized of possessions: the most exquisite feminine jewel. _

The phone rang again. "What?" he asked gruffly. He was silent for a considerable length of time. The earlier conversation with the same man and the brief reminiscing had affected his mood once more. He cursed himself for it…until he heard what the man now had to say.

"Really?" he said slowly, clearly intrigued and satisfied. His lips curved into a wicked smile. "Excellent. It seems she was a good decoy after all."

* * *

He was not blind enough to actually consider the idea that the hotel was decent. It was grubby on the lobby level, and though the satisfaction increased with the levels, it was nowhere near what Chuck Bass would call satisfactory. And he knew Blair Waldorf felt the same thing. Still, here he was, sitting across from Andrew Tyler, his P.I., having drinks in the midst of sharing the most secretive of information. There was hardly another individual in the quiet, musky bar. He was grateful for it, but desperately wanted to leave. He spent the majority of his days outside and far away from the hotel. Something very recently had pinned him to it though. He would not budge with his decision for the afternoon drinks, not even after his P.I. requested it multiple times. _He_ was the one paying _him_ after all.

"Spill it," he said suddenly. The man's eyes shifted up to his and it was obvious that he felt uncomfortable under Chuck's hard stare. The eighteen-year-old had never known him to be anything other than cocky and confident, but still knowing who was boss. This man was not himself. He had practically been shaking throughout the whole meeting. For a man who was excellent at discovering secrets and sharing them only with his prospective clients, with suave convincing ease, Andrew Tyler was not hiding his nerves very well.

"Excuse me?" he asked, reaching blindly around for his glass of scotch on the bar table. Chuck pushed it towards him, his eyes still piercing his P.I.'s shaky gaze throughout.

"You're hiding something from me. I don't know why you're doing it, but even if it's not something I required you to find out, if it has to do with me, then I'm paying you to tell me." He reminded him of his abundant wealth as he slipped the check with his name on it closer to the man's elbow. Mr. Tyler nodded once and seemed to gain back all of his usual energy and confidence in a second. He straightened his posture on the bar stool, cleared his throat, and looked into Chuck's eyes.

"Your girlfriend has been calling me for the past few days," he said, not wasting any time with prior nerves. He was quite confident and resigned to his information now, Chuck realized. "I haven't told her anything, but I have a feeling that if you don't tell her something, she'll start snooping. With all due respect, Mr. Bass, this hotel, this area of town, is not the best place for her to be snooping."

Chuck nodded once. "Right." He shrugged, making a casual gesture with his hand. "It's nothing to worry about. So she's been asking questions, the worst thing that can happen is that she won't stop asking. Just don't tell her anything else and everything will be fine."

The P.I. looked at Chuck skeptically. He may have never been directly aligned with Blair Waldorf, but he knew what she was capable of and the boy insisting on no vulnerability or expression of emotion sitting beside him seemed to have forgotten that. He decided it was best not to voice his opinion on such matters though. He got the information. He did not get involved.

"Right, Sir."

Chuck dismissed the words as if they had not even been spoken. Any mention of Blair seemed to go in one ear and out the other. He could not clearly see what was happening to him, but somehow he did not see her as any sort of threat. A pang of guilt went through him every night when he refused her, but he was so driven to discover the woman that he was now convinced was his mother, that the stinging feeling hardly lasted. The few times he'd caught her crying or thrashing because of obvious nightmares in bed though, he'd felt like he was burning. Somehow though he could just not make himself get close to her right now. He would weaken then, he would give up the fight. His life would become all Blair and he would never find his mother. From the experience so far, he knew Blair would not leave. She was too devoted. For this reason alone, he knew her trying to pry information out of his P.I. was no real threat.

"You said you had something new for me?" he asked expectantly. The man raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes briefly at the reminder. He opened his jacket ever so slightly to pull out a large manila envelope.

"She's here," he said, fiddling with the opening of the envelope. In a few quick flicks, the document was open and sitting before Chuck who blinked, almost dazed.

"_Here_? At _this_ hotel?" he looked up at the P.I. in disbelief. Tyler raised his eyebrows briefly.

"I didn't believe it either, but the proof is all right there. She's here on some…high school history debate?" he didn't sound too sure of himself, but it was casual enough that Chuck did not question it. "Regardless it's in there. I would just act before the end of the week. The event started yesterday, and these things don't last forever."

Chuck nodded, not angered in the least when his P.I. offered up his opinion. He thumbed through the documents informing him who the girl was and why she was there, how she had even gotten involved in a high school _debate_. A picture fell out from the neatly stacked papers. Shoulder-length straight brown hair, light brown eyes and a seductive smile that no doubt got her anything she wanted. The word _charming_ was blatantly posted near the end of her profile, where her age and initial location was posted. He smirked. Amanda Grey had just turned twenty-two. _Definitely not high school._

"Thank-you, Tyler," he said, still dazed as he looked over the photo and the documents now taking up a huge space in front of him. He hardly noticed when the man nodded, stood to his feet and left, large sum amount on the check in his hand. "I believe this is progress."

* * *

She couldn't stand it anymore. The stuffy air of the hotel suite had finally overloaded her senses and sent her whirling to the outside world, a place she hadn't been in quite some time. She realized the shops were still the same, as was the scenery. She also realized something she couldn't believe she had forgotten. The musky smells and dirty sights cleared up just ten blocks away. There was a river that slid through the city and it somehow gave her a breath she wasn't afraid of releasing. Out here in the open she thought it might be easier. Though she hated to think it, she desperately wished she could stop being so worried over Chuck. _He was fine_, she told herself. _He was probably making progress_, she _also_ told herself. _He—_

Her thoughts stopped, as well as any strength or positivity that had been reborn in her ten blocks earlier when she'd stepped out of the hotel for the first time in over a week, almost _two_ weeks. She gripped her hands firmly to the metal bar sitting atop the long cement bridge overlooking the river. Reality swept over her and she shuddered despite the warming temperature. She didn't know how Chuck was doing or if he had even made any progress at all. All she saw or heard of him was a stone cold, yet very lost looking expression that almost always collapsing on the bed or heading out the door. He had separated himself completely from her and she didn't know how much more she could bear it. She had tried contacting Andrew Tyler, the Bass P.I., numerous times over the last three to four pies. The man was too loyal, too dedicated to his cause, and to particular about who he received his check from. Asking Chuck directly what he'd been able to discover in regards to finding his mother was definitely not an option. She didn't have the strength to get rejected again. It was bad enough he didn't open up to her on his own, both emotionally _and_ physically, but to get rejected after asking would be even worse. She'd felt that pain just asking him to kiss her some nights before. After that first week when they'd arrived, everything seemed to go downhill. The only option left was to do some digging on her own.

There was something in the hotel that in her blinding misery she had missed. There was a reason they hadn't moved on to a different hotel after two weeks. There was a reason Chuck was too focused on his detective work to hardly notice she was there anymore. She was not about to ignore it anymore. If Chuck really cared about her, he would have to stop her snooping himself, _by force._

_ WORLD HISTORY HIGH SCHOOL DEBATE_

Blair happened to look up at the large banner hanging outside the hotel some twenty minutes later. She had begun to complain five minutes into her walk back that she should not have worn heels while going out. In her defense, she did not have much else open to her when she had come along, and she was sick of trying to translate English into whatever language they spoke there just to get the smallest of things.

The banner should not have meant much to her. But after several long moments her eyes widened and she gaped. She could not understand why she hadn't been aware of it or why Chuck hadn't told her. Despite her actually knowing the answer to both of those questions, it became blatantly clear the reason as to why they had not moved hotels and why Chuck was always gone. Though now the latter seemed like some type of deception on his end to keep her from getting suspicious. He probably came back every night hoping she was still distraught over him always being gone. Her eyes narrowed and a bubbling, fastly developing anger grew in her.

She crossed the street to the hotel and her eyes lit up at the realization that an English translator was standing just outside the front door with brochures in her hands, eager to translate to anyone who wished it of her. She was in a bright, clean, yellow blazer with matching formal attire. She looked entirely too professional and too _rich_ for being on this side of town and wasting her time talking for people. Blair could not comprehend it, but she decided that the woman was clearly pretending to be rich. From the look on her face it did not seem that was being paid that well.

Politely, because she could not afford to be a bitch at the moment, Blair cleared her throat and strode towards her. She knew it would be a stupid question, one that the woman would blink and wonder at, but she could not stop herself from hoping that what she'd seen in its entirety on the sign was not actually there, despite the clues it held.

"Excuse me," she said, tapping her finger lightly on the woman's shoulder. Immediately the short-haired blonde turned to her, eyes wide and eager to assist. Before she opened her mouth, Blair held up her hand to stop her. "Could you just read that sign to me? All of it?" she asked, gesturing just above the hotel doors. The woman's eyes squinted up at the sign and for a moment Blair contemplated the possibility that the woman was illiterate.

_Oh Lord, please no._

"It says…"

_Thank God._

"…World History High School Debate," she nodded cheerily. Blair tried to keep smiling politely but she was severely annoyed.

"What _else_ does it say?" she asked, pushing her irritation down as much as she possibly could.

"Oh!" The woman seemed to realize her mistake and refocused her eyes back on the sign, squinting again. "It says that the high schoolers are all from the United States," she smiled proudly. Blair stared blankly at her and the woman's face immediately fell. She had messed up again. The woman cleared her throat. "Bass, Inc.," she said, "They are sponsoring the teams," she said uneasily.

Blair sighed, nodded, and thanked her, walking off almost immediately. The woman sighed in relief and felt a strange, sparkling joy fill her when the impatient brunette dropped a few green bills of large amount in her hand. She did not dare ask for them in a different currency. She tucked them securely in her breast pocket.

Blair walked into the hotel, noticing very suddenly that there were fliers, banners, brochures everywhere for this high school debate. She felt like a complete idiot, locking herself away in a loveless, less than Brooklyn-like hotel suite. So much had been going on in the lower levels and she'd been too consumed in her insecurities and hope that Chuck would open up to her that she couldn't see what was right in front of her all along and that it directly connected to her boyfriend and his mission.

The man at the front desk looked at her inquisitively.

"May I help you, miss?"

She smiled cheekily at him and walked up to the desk with a confident, powerful stride.

"Yes, this high school debate looks particularly interesting. Would you be willing to inform me who is all involved in the operation?"

The man's eyes lit up, and despite the fact that there were brochures everywhere, he pulled out a handful from behind the desk.

"Here you go, miss. All the information should be in there," he said, looking to be very proud of himself for accomplishing such a feat.

"Mmm," she mused, hardly looking down at the pack of papers. "Are any of the contestants staying here at the hotel?"

"Oh yes!" he said enthusiastically. She smirked.

"You wouldn't happen to know the rooms any of them are staying in, would you?" He parted his lips to argue, however pathetically, with her, but she continued before he could make even the slightest objection. "I realize this type of information is obviously confidential, but I'm here on vacation and just got a call last night that my cousin is in the debate here. I haven't seen her in years and I'd definitely have to scan your list of names before being able to identify her, so…if you don't mind…"

He looked extremely hesitant, but eventually he printed out the list of names of all involved in the competition. Blair scanned over the names, which quite stupidly the man had printed out with the room numbers. Then she handed the paper back to him, and with it a wad of bills disguised by her soft hand returning the paper.

"You're new, aren't you…Justin, is it?" she asked coyly, eyeing his nametag briefly. His eyes were glued to the large wad of bills in his hand. _He was horrible at being discreet over gratifying things_, she realized. He only nodded.

"You're doing well," she said, punching the names and numbers from the sheet into her phone before she had gotten to the elevator. When Justin looked up, she was gone. He stuck the money in his pocket and shredded the sheet.

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A/N: Yaaaaaaaay! I finished it before the episode! Review! ;D


	4. Marred Complexion

A/N: Well, by some miracle I've gotten motivated to update this story. Heh. I would have done it sooner, but after what Chuck did in 3x17, it's been hard to get into the mindset of him before that. I'm sure I'll get over it soon enough, just don't expect too many updates from any of my fics besides _Flashback_ until I do. ;p

Make sure to review. I am ever appreciative for those lovely comments. ;)

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**Ch.4—Marred Complexion **

The room was not grubby, not in the least. He was starting to think maybe he had underestimated the quality of the hotel. He had hardly paid attention to the details before, was so wrapped up in his mission – unlike his mindset at the first hotel. Then it had been all about Blair, mostly at least. He had not been focused.

Recently wipe down tables littered the front of the room, all evenly set apart. Averagely comfortable chairs filled up most of the back half of the room. They were all a dull maroon with some speckled deep turquoise blotches. There was a short, carpeted stage just beyond all the tables. A smoothly crafted wooden podium stood on the front right end of the stage. Two long tables with the same semi-comfortable chairs were placed beside it. The set-up did not meet his expectations by any means, but he figured it would make finding his answers a heck of a lot easier.

A group of middle-class American teens stood in a cluster at the far end of the room near the window. Some looked out at the less than appreciative scenery, but most of them talked amongst each other. Some looked lazily around the room as if they were bored out of their minds. _My thoughts exactly. _A few adults moved about the room, some with piles of paper and others with microphones and buzzing murmurs. Everyone seemed in a world of their own, whether exciting or not. Chuck guessed _not_.

In the midst of a group of girls lingering near the back of the room, stood Amanda Grey. Chuck was sure of it. _Straight shoulder-length brown hair, light brown eyes_ (from what he could tell) and the _seductive smile_ she shot him from across the room painted her description completely. He looked away from her briefly to pull out the file his P.I. had given him on said Amanda Grey. He skimmed down the page to find her description and smirked when he found it.

"Mr. Bass," he heard a voice directly in front of him and watched as the figure belonging to it snatched the piece of paper and skimmed over it. Chuck's eyebrows narrowed and he grabbed it back from her, sliding it into the file and in the bag he had brought with him.

"Amanda Grey," he drawled, examining her features. She still shot him that seductive stare, but it had managed to turn more playful, less inappropriate. "What year are you?" he asked casually.

She smiled. "I'm a junior this year," she said matter-of-factly. "History's my favorite subject, government in particular," she said, noticing how his gaze shifted to the set-up around the room. He turned back to her and nodded once, slowly.

"Would you like to share a drink?" he asked, raising his eyebrows suggestively. Her eyes sparkled.

"Well," she took a step closer to him and laid her hand tenderly on his arm. "I would, but I'm _seventeen, _Chu_ck_," she whispered his name in his ear. "I don't do that kind of thing," she said cheerfully, shrugging her shoulders.

He smirked at her. _She was good_, but she was also flat-out lying. It didn't mean he didn't have several back-up plans. He looked her up and down, raking his eyes across her features. The mini-skirt was hiked up and her bra strap easily shone through her button-up, short-sleeved shirt. She didn't look trashy per _say_, but she was the closest thing to Serena Van der Woodsen walking out of _Constance_.

"Where are you from?" he asked casually. She blinked as if slightly shocked by the abrupt change in subject. He did not make a move to explain the question but simply waited for the response. Her smile reappeared.

"California. You?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"I think you know the answer to that, Miss Grey."

"Oh please, can't you just hu—"

"No tan?" he asked, eyeing her pale figure.

"I stay inside," she said, watching him inquisitively. His eyes snapped back up to hers. He was quiet for awhile, blocking out all other noise so he could concentrate solely on her.

"Sure you don't want to have a drink?" he asked again. This time his voice was lower, more sultry. He couldn't be sure if she was affected by him, but he decided to believe that she was. It didn't mean he wouldn't try extra hard to make sure she fell into his trap.

"I have to prepare for the competition, Mr. Bass," she said, turning around with an arrogant eye roll. He grabbed her arm before she could successfully take the first step in the opposite direction. Even though the room was generously large, he decided an attempted seduction was not exactly good in broad daylight.

"I'm not sure you realize what kind of power I have," he said, his tone light and cocky. She looked back up at him, not fazed in the least.

"You're Chuck Bass," she said. He smirked. "One of the richest men in the world," she went on. His smirk stretched a bit wider. He pulled her to him until she was less than a foot away. She was almost taller than him and her pale link lips glistened in the dull glow of the room. Very suddenly their lips were only inches away. Caught off guard, Chuck's head reeled back a little when she snapped her arm away.

"And I couldn't give a damn," she almost glared. "I'm not a gold digger." She rolled her eyes and turned away from him, making her way back across the room to her little cluster of girl friends. Chuck was baffled and had to blink a few times to regain his composure. It wasn't that he had had any intention of getting intimately involved with the woman, but she was the next piece of the puzzle he was trying to finish. She knew more than she was letting on, and seducing her was supposed to start the tear-down of her walls. All his lure had done was push him below her with everything he had being placed in the same pile as _Brooklyn_ and _public schools_.

He scoffed, irritated with her behavior and clever getaway. He shouldn't have been, but he was. He turned on his heel and left. From behind him, Amanda smirked and stared after him with seductive eyes. Nothing out of the normal had happened, but her superior would be sufficiently pleased.

* * *

The ding of the elevator jolted Blair back to her senses and she stepped out into the hall of the fourteenth floor. It was eerily quiet and looked to be almost beyond repair. Everything in the hall was tinged with dirt. The rose colored floor was speckled with the dull-colored brown dirt. Smudged fingerprints wiped across what once must have been white walls, and unlike the other floors she'd traveled to, there was not a single creak in the floor when she walked. She clutched her purse tighter around her shoulder.

It had not been too difficult to discover the specifics on those involved with the high school competition. The young man at the counter was clearly too gullible and lacking in some serious confidence, but it had worked to her advantage so inwardly she thanked him. It had been far too easy on her part, almost insulting. But she had gotten so desperate for information, she hadn't minded in the least. The thought occurred to her that she could send a large tip to this inexperienced _boy_ in order to make Chuck jealous. She sighed in the reminder that it probably would not faze Chuck as much as it once used to.

Out of the long list the man had given her, and the long hours she'd spent researching on her laptop, her _aha_ moment occurred. There was a man, presumably the leader of the entire event, that was staying on this floor. From what she could tell, he was a player, and playing every girl on the teams involved in the competition. She had rolled her eyes at the thought and scoffed, but it was nothing she hadn't dealt with before. _Chuck_. She blinked to avoid thinking about him.

No longer was she just going to sit back and wait for Chuck to open up to her. If he did not tell her what he was doing, she would find out on her own and start her own sort of investigation. She contemplated calling Serena a few times and starting up an N-JBC sort of scheme. She came to the conclusion that the blonde would not take to that idea happily. Nate would not be far behind on the idea. Besides, the two were in a happy bliss at the moment. It would be a shame to break the bubble they'd wanted to form for years just because Chuck had gone off the deep end again, and she had no way of reaching him this time. _No suicide attempt to save him from. No drugs or alcohol to pull away. No nasty words to shove in his face._ He hadn't accused her of anything or sent her packing. He had become increasingly distant but there was hardly anything to counter that with. She did not think if she disappeared for a night he'd even notice.

She inched her way further down the hallway. Still there was no sound, but she didn't want to take her chances. The supposed man's room was about halfway down the hall and her heart beat rapidly as she approached it. When finally she was before it, she held up her hand to know – maybe play off the innocent lost school girl approach, since she knew it so well – but the sound that erupted from behind the door stopped her.

There were screams. There was a young girl inside screaming. Blair nearly choked at the sound of it, so horrified and shocked was she at the sound of a young woman trying to escape rape. Her breaths became shallow though quickening like lightning. She took a step back. Her mind was racing at what she could do. She didn't know which demand was more pressing, to run for her life or to attempt to break down the door and save the girl. It was none of her business what went on behind closed doors of people she didn't know. But over the last year or so, she'd felt a growing need to help people. She blamed it on Chuck and her dire need to save him after his father's death. _Nate's comment on her being maternal still rung in her ears…_ she would not speak about how it made her smile at times.

_"Let me go!"_ a young girl screamed. She could not have been older than fifteen. Blair blinked wildly, surprised at the tears resting in her eyes and threatening to fall.

_"Shut up, you little brat! Relax and I won't slit your throat!" _

Blair's eyes widened. Rape was one thing but murder was quite another. She started to shake, and definitely was starting to regret coming to the floor all together – at least at this particular time.

"I didn't do it! I swear I didn't! I-I was just going to the bathroom, and he—that—I didn't do it!" the girl cried louder. It burned Blair's ears. The man sounded very aggressive, shouting more profane words at the young girl who continued to whimper and cry, throwing out defenses that didn't seem to make sense. Then, there were sounds of large objects being moved about in the room and then there was a loud crash of what sounded like glass. Her eyes widened and her feet finally found the strength to back away to the other side of the hall.

Blood spurted out onto the carpet from under the door. Now she could hear nothing but the thick silence and the hyperventilating coming from her own mouth that she tried to keep absolutely mute. Her eyes snapped up at the sound of chains being pulled back from across the inside of the door and the lock on the knob being turned. Her eyes widened and she stumbled off down the hall till she reached the elevator and pressed desperately for the lobby floor. She had to get _out_ of this damn hotel.

………

Late that night, Chuck returned to the hotel room. Blair could hear him when the door opened and her breathing began to quicken despite its hardly audible sound. It wasn't as if she had been asleep before, but the sound of the door opening had scared her half to death. She felt as if she had been scarred beyond belief and simply could not handle it.

After descending the elevator, and being grateful beyond belief when that man somehow did not follow her, she walked around for hours out in the city trying to rid herself of the God-awful feeling that she could have done something and she didn't. She almost felt like the criminal. _Had that girl actually died? _She shuddered at the thought, and it was at moments like these when she wished Chuck was open to her and would hold her and tell her it wasn't her fault and that they would get through this _together_. She swallowed hard, trying to contain the tears down streaking down her cheeks._ She didn't want him to hear her. _She didn't want to let him in – not until he let her in first. God, was it some kind of competition now? This was the _last_ thing she needed to start a game for.

It was pitch black besides the moonlight shining through the window in the main room of the suite. Yet still she could see the shoes she had worn earlier and the dried blood still painted on them. She had been afraid to touch them, afraid it would kill her if she did. Somehow someone would discover her secret and sell her out. Maybe that would be better though than this hell of Chuck blocking her out. She had never been so miserable and now she was scared to death. _She just wanted Chuck to hold her…_

The door opened just long enough for Chuck to slip inside in silence. Her eyes snapped shut and she made to silence her entire being completely until he fell asleep. Hopefully by then she would be asleep as well. She doubted it, but still it was wishful thinking. Part of her feared him even coming in to bed with her. She had never seen the figure behind that tightly locked door on the fourteenth floor earlier that day. This was truly the closest a man had gotten to her since then. Horrors raced through her mind that he had come to get her and would rape her as she lie there, shaking beneath the covers. She knew the horrific images would fade if Chuck were to hold her. Then she'd be momentarily at peace. But it did not happen, just as she knew it would not. Chuck was still far too caught up in his own world, just as she knew he would be.

A shaky sigh escaped her despite her best efforts and she cursed herself for it. The pressure of Chuck's body on the bed scared her to death, but the fear lifted slightly when she heard him sigh. It was as if he had spoken. There was familiarity in that sigh, and not just in the way that she'd heard it every night for the last few weeks. No, this was _Chuck_. Her first instinct was to turn over and pull him to her, to demand he hold her simply for the need visibly scene in her desperate shaking fingers. But then she reminded herself that he did not see her as a priority and maybe even as a burden now…she swallowed hard at the thought and choked back a cry. The room seemed to have gotten unbearably still after that.

"_Blair?_"

The still quiet voice came out of nowhere, and it definitely did not belong to that of a killer. She was surprised Chuck had actually heard her and taken notice. Now that he had, she didn't know how to react. The drive to crawl into his arms nearly overwhelmed her. But she remained still.

"I'm fine, Chuck," she said calmly, coolly. He did not argue and instead turned on his stomach, his face turned away. She sighed shakily once more and settled into her position. Soon after she decided his concerned calling out to her must have been a dream. There was no other explanation. By two a.m. she was asleep. Unawares to her, Chuck woke suddenly about twenty minutes following with an aching tension in him of loneliness and helplessness. He missedher_ warmth_, or _any_ warmth for that matter. Without another thought, he moved slowly across the bed and wrapped her up in his arms, his nose buried deep into her hair.

* * *

A/N: Well, I'm scared to death to watch the episode tonight. I know too much about it and I fear that writing CB period will be extremely difficult if it's as unbelievably scarring as I've heard it will be. I did start to update this though, and so I followed through. I get the feeling this one will not be too hard to continue, and Flashback will certainly help. But we'll have to see how I feel after the episode…*gulp* Review! =D I hope some of you are still reading this! ;p It is not forgotten! ;D


	5. Remember Yesterday

A/N: It's been too long. I apologize. Vidding has stolen me a lot lately. XD Though, this last time around it caused me to make a few trailers, one of them for this fic in particular, so make sure to go check that out and comment. ;p (*Look under ChuckBlairLuvA's vid: The Edge – A Chuck & Blair Fanfic Trailer) I hope you enjoy the chapter. =)

*I own nothing, as always.

* * *

**Ch.5—Remember Yesterday**

He was still sleeping when she got up the next morning. It should have been the most bizarre thing in the world to her, since he hadn't been in bed with her when it was still light out since their first week overseas. The events from the day before, however, were clouding her senses, and all she could do was climb out of bed quietly, freshen up, and slip out the front door.

Her heart beat wildly against her, and half-way up the duration of the elevator transport, she regretted abandoning the hotel suite where she might have actually shared a warm talk or comfortable breakfast with the man she'd seemed invisible to for over two weeks. She sighed, and suddenly wondered if it had been this hard when Chuck initially abandoned her from his quest. She wondered if there had been a great conflict within him, or if he had done it with ease. The transfer had not happened overnight, but it had felt to her as if she just woke up one morning and he was gone, in more than just the physical sense.

_He sighed. "This is just so frustrating."_

_She frowned sympathetically and walked up behind him, placing her soft hands on his shoulders and leaning against his backside. Soon her hands slipped down to his waist and she held him close, cleverly stealing away the papers he'd been rummaging through in a fury when he relaxed in her hold. He smiled faintly._

_"You're trying to distract me," he said. She smirked and shook her head gently._

_"I'm not," she said. "You're just very susceptible to my charms."_

_He quirked an eyebrow and turned his head a little to look at her. "Am I?"_

_She nodded, playful glint in her eye. "Very."_

_He turned in her arms and wrapped his arms around her petite form, pulling her up against him and kissing her warmly on the mouth._

_"Mmm," she murmured, clearly pleased. A smile spread across her lips when they had only parted just a little. It contagiously traveled to his face._

_"Like that, do you?" he asked, his eyes still closed as he breathed in her scent. She sighed contently and flattened her hands against his back, moving them in soft, occasional shifts. His head ducked into her neck, and his nose lost itself in her luscious curls._

_"Blair?" he asked again. Her eyes blinked open finally and she tried to register what he'd originally asked. _

_"Uh—um," she tried to focus or at least retrieve some sense of speech in her hazy state. "Repeat the question?" she asked, stifling an escalating moan when he bit down and tugged on her earlobe._

_"Do you like that?" he asked, his voice deep and hot in her ear. She shivered._

_"Mmm," she responded, intoxicated once again. He chuckled lightly and proceeded to lower the zipper on the back of her dress. She did not complain, but just relished in the feel of him up against her, kissing every inch of her bare skin._

_"Let's stay in today."_

In retrospect, she thought that maybe she shouldn't have given into him so easily. Perhaps she should have persisted in him letting her in on the matter that frustrated him so and exactly what progress he'd made, if any. In that first week maybe he would have let her in. Now she'd never know. If she'd thought it through enough at the time though, she would have seen through it easily enough. For some bizarre reason she thought she was helping him by giving him a break from his research one to three times a day. She should have known better. He had been much too warm towards her since finding out about Elizabeth, the mysterious woman who could have very well been his mother, despite her claims. At the very least she knew something about the late Mrs. Bass. Blair just wished she had had more to threaten her with.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she whispered to herself as she stepped out of the elevator and walked out onto the hotel floor. Her thoughts of late had dwindled into a depressing state but she had to bring herself back to reality and stop thinking so much about the past. She had come to help Chuck find his mother, find answers, and if he would not let her help by telling her what he was doing, then she would seek out answers on her own. Maybe then he'd be grateful and open up again.

She stopped stock still and looked down the hallway she'd been in the day before. She knew it was not smart to come back to the scene of a possible murder, but then again, she could have very well been overreacting. At least that's what she told herself. It could have been an accident of some sort. An object might have fallen and cut someone badly, or something could have slammed into the door and its contents could have been something very similar to blood. The objections to her weak theories were numerous in her mind. She cursed her father for being a lawyer, albeit silently and eventually taken back.

The hall was clean. The day before it had been dirty, smudged, not at all appealing if the hotel owner was going for a classy appeal or repeat customers. It was as if the experience from the day before had all been a dream. Blair checked the number on the elevator to see if she was on the right floor. The answer was not conflicting in the least. She turned back around and made her way to the door which caused her such a rattling sensation before. She knew it had not been an imaginative horror when she spotted the flooring in front of the sparkling white wood. The carpeting had clearly been scrubbed hard and now did not look indistinguishable from the rest of the hall, except for one small blotch of dried blood peeking out from the gold metal lining beneath the door. Her lips parted and she bent down to get a closer look of it, to make sure once again it was not all an illusion.

Noises inside the room broke her concentration again, and she quickly snapped to attention, stumbling back to the elevator when she heard a loud man's irritated voice from within and stomping feet approaching the tainted door.

Safe inside the elevator she slunk down to her feet. She was breathing fast, too fast, but she forced herself to focus on something good, reassuring, strong enough to deliver her from her nightmares, or at least that horrid floor that she'd been warped enough to go back to.

_"Remember I'm Chuck Bass, and I love you."_

"Oh God, Chuck…" she nearly cried in frustration, sighing at the memory. But her breathing returned to normal. The elevator slowed as it approached her floor. She couldn't help the nagging that wouldn't leave her alone. Whatever that man was doing in that room couldn't be good, and she just _knew_ it had to do with Chuck.

* * *

He cleared his throat, smirk properly put in place on his full lips. Finally the girl turned to him and rolled her eyes, taking a sip of the alcoholic beverage she'd just received at the hotel bar.

"A little young to be drinking, aren't you Miss Grey?"

She turned towards him again. "I could say the same for you," she said, gesturing to the scotch he held in his hand. "Last I checked, you were eighteen, not twenty-one."

"I'm Chuck Bass," he said, as if that explained everything. She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink. "And besides, I do believe it's different overseas."

She pursed her lips and fully turned her body towards him. "What do you want?" she asked him point blank. She wasn't up for beating around the bush. And she didn't plan to stay around the boy-billionaire any longer than she had to.

"Straight forward, aren't you?" he asked, coyly raking his eyes over her face. She blinked at him, clearly trying to cover up her impatience. His smirk only widened. She took another sip of her drink, fully planning on ditching him as soon as it was gone. She only had half of a glass left.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Drinking."

"And?" he gestured towards the rest of the room.

"High school competition," she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"You really expect me to believe that," he said, his expression finally becoming serious. She smiled a little at this and relaxed on her bar stool.

"You can believe what you want to, Mr. Bass, but it's the only answer you're going to get." She hopped down off the barstool as quickly as she'd settled into it and placed some money on the counter. It was far too much than was required for a generous tip. Chuck eyed it with amusement.

"You certainly have cash to spare," he noted. She sighed, clearly tired of the conversation.

"I came half way around the world for a week long government competition," she said, turning to him briefly as she slipped her purse strap up and over her shoulder. "I should hope I'd have enough money to pay everybody twice what they're worth."

He looked at her silently for awhile, wondering why she did not leave yet when near two minutes had passed. She had certainly seemed annoyed enough to get out with haste from the moment he'd sat beside her at the bar. She didn't look nervous now or overly agitated. She just stood there, as if waiting for him to respond and ask her some silent question that she knew he was begging to ask.

"I'm here on a private matter, in case you were wondering."

Her thinned lips quirked up ever so slightly into a knowing smile. There was a hint of seduction in her bottomless eyes.

"I wouldn't have guessed," she said neutrally. "Normally you're out for business, are you not?" she asked with poised perfection. It reminded him vaguely of Blair.

"Normally," he responded dryly. She sighed, her annoyed state clearly having risen from the dead and overwhelming her senses.

"Well, this is not fun at all and I'm going to leave," she said, turning away from him and walking towards the opposite end of the room where the elevator waited for her. He watched her interestingly for awhile, before sliding off his own stool and reaching for her.

"You have information for me," he said, his hand clenched around her arm. She stilled and turned to him, her eyes now clouded with anger. She ripped her arm away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she snapped.

"Whatever he's paying you, I can double it."

She scoffed, laughing a little at his attempt to get what he wanted. "Money won't get you everything you want, Mr. Bass. You should know that by now." He stared at her intently, analyzing what she said and how she said it. A cold swept developed on his forehead when he could not determine her hidden meaning. By the time he realized it she was a few steps away from him and nearing the elevator once again.

"Oh, and just so we're clear, this has nothing to do with Jack Bass."

_**Ding!**_

The elevator doors opened and she stepped inside, along with a few other people. She had no doubt noticed the severe change in his facial expression. His jaw had dropped, his eyes had widened, and the chill consuming his face intensified. If he had been more prepared for the mention of his twisted uncle, he would have noticed the devious smirk and sparkle in the eyes of Amanda Grey before the elevator doors closed behind her.

_Jack Bass._

He had hoped the whole ordeal wouldn't have the slightest possibility of Jack's involvement, but he knew it was too much to hope for. It was the one haunting fear that had plagued him day and night since they'd enter the city. It was the key reason he had unknowingly shut Blair out. At the mention of Jack, he knew she'd feel guilty all over again. They had come too far to let the subject matter of Jack tear them apart. He just didn't realize how his over-cautiousness had built a wedge between them. He had never meant for it to go this far, and now he didn't know how to go back. And it was so much easier to just focus on the task at hand.

But there was only one person who could save him when he couldn't bear the weight of the world crashing down on and around him. He wouldn't – _couldn't_ – deny her anymore. He just hoped she'd still have him. The wedge he'd built was almost impenetrable.

* * *

It was dark, late, when he returned to the hotel suite that night. He hadn't meant to stay out so late, but he'd needed time to think, to sort things out. He knew he couldn't just come pouncing in on Blair, and hope she'd take him back. Blair was a bitch when she wanted to be, they both were, and she deserved better. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that in taking the easy way out he'd ignored her completely and now more clear than ever was the memory of her trying to be close to him and pushing her away. He didn't like the thought that when she'd woken up in the middle of the night in a fit of nightmares it had been because of him didn't sit well. Usually he noticed details so well. He hadn't noticed them at all over the last two weeks, but they came flashing through his mind now at a mind-numbing speed. She'd sweated too much in a chilled state. She'd tried to cuddle, tried to kiss, tried to _talk_ with him too much for him to ignore, and then steadily less until it was hardly at all. He hated himself for what had happened. He'd told her this time was going to be different and he'd completely blocked her out when he probably needed her the most.

But that didn't stop him from getting drunk in a bar across town and wandering around in a nearby park until he'd completely sobered up. That was why it was so late when he finally returned. For the first time in weeks he hadn't spent the entire day searching for answers. After his encounter with Amanda Grey, he'd become immersed in thoughts of Blair Waldorf. He knew she'd probably be asleep when he returned, even if a part of him desperately wished she hadn't. He didn't even know what she did all day. He vaguely remembered her going out shopping during their first days in the city. But the new shopping bags appeared less and less, and in the depths of his mind he recalled the only possessions gathering up in their suite were the papers that he didn't have a straight mind to go through all at once or fully dissect completely.

The door was half opened when he finally reached it. The folder of Amanda Grey lie still on the low table in the corner of their room. It wasn't opened, but he wondered briefly if she'd looked at it. He decided he wouldn't blame her or be angry if she had. After how he'd shut her out, she had every right to go snooping through his things. The fact that she wouldn't have had to go snooping if he'd just told her what was going on repeated itself over and over in his mind like a broken record he couldn't shut off.

A sliver of moonlight streamed in through the door, but his original suspicions had been correct. He sighed at the sight of her sleeping form wrapped up in the warm comforter on the bed. He ran a hand through his hair and slid out of his jacket. The thought did occur to him as odd briefly that she was already asleep. It was late, true, but she had almost always waited up for him. That he remembered clearer than anything else. _Had something happened?_ Maybe she'd finally given up on him. The thought chilled his gut till he felt frostbite slinking up towards the opening his throat provided. He swore he was going to do her right the next day. He'd abandon an entire day to just being with her like he'd done a few times during that first week. He'd make her remember what it was like to feel loved, and that hopefully the feeling was still mutual. The thought that she didn't love him anymore was fleeting though. There was an unsettling doubt, but it lessened incredibly as he repeatedly told himself she would have left if she didn't still love him. She wouldn't have hung on so long just waiting for the man she loved to reappear again and allow her stubborn loyalty to save him.

He slipped out of his pants and button down shirt, adorning his near naked body with the silk pajamas he hadn't worn in almost a week, the night before he'd last made love to her. _God, he missed that. _As if on demand, the swelling heat returned to set fire to his entire body. He couldn't believe he'd been so focused on the task at hand to forget about his most favorite activity, especially in regards to Blair Waldorf. She didn't even know the depths of her effect on him. Memories of their coy role playing sex flooded through his mind. He groaned a little too loud at the realization that a long talk and a good night's sleep would have to be accomplished before he could relieve the throbbing dick that had now been reawakened. He tried to shake it off and just settled himself in bed beside her. He remembered then how he'd always turned away from her when she'd only wanted to be close. She must have felt so alone. The overwhelming guilt returned, temporarily blocking out his need for sex. As if by instinct though, Blair unconsciously turned towards him once he'd finally gotten situated in bed. He watched her as a wavy tendril of her hair fell into her face. Almost afraid of breaking her, he hesitantly pushed the perfect strand of hair away. Even in her sleep though, it was as if she could sense him. Her face turned briefly into his hand and the butterflies that had unintentionally grown dormant over the last couple weeks exploded on impact.

With the gentlest of motions, he tugged at her shoulder lightly. She curled up into him and tucked her head beneath his chin. His heart beat wildly against him and he wrapped his arm around her waist. The initial realization of this angel beside him didn't dim for the longest time, but finally his excitement relaxed just enough to put him into the deepest, most peaceful sleep he'd had since he'd visited his father's grave and seen the ghost of a mother he'd never had with a golden locket that held a whirlwind of secrets.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed. Finally, there's a light to the end of the tunnel, right? XD Once again, sorry for taking so long to update. Thank-you for those of you who haven't given up on this and keep reviewing. =) It makes this story worth writing. ;p


	6. Comes Around

A/N: Well, thank-you lovelies for continuing to review. It appears as though my reviewers have decreased significantly and it makes me sad. *tear* But I am grateful for those of you that have continued to read and review. =) I love this story and I'm glad you do too. ;)

*I own nothing, as always.

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**Ch.6—Comes Around**

His eyes halted when he saw her sleeping form on the couch deposited conveniently on the far side of his office. She'd refused to sleep with him again, even to just sleep. He'd known she would, and he certainly wasn't the one to give up his own comfortable bed for a resisting female. He planned on pushing her buttons until she came to him. He only hoped he would have more luck than he had had earlier on in his life, about twenty years earlier.

_"Jack! Jack, stop!"_

_ He grunted into her ear. "Hush, love, I know you want it."_

_ "No," she pushed him away, glaring at his lust-filled eyes in an attempt to fix her hair. She stumbled towards the greater part of the hall and very precisely adjusted her hair in the large oval mirror. He sighed loudly._

_ "It wouldn't have been rape," he murmured, walking towards her. She shot him another glare._

_ "I'm with your brother, Jack," she said. With a roll of her eyes, she made the finishing touches to her fancy updo and turned back to where the party was still in full swing. She moved past him, ignoring his scoff. She stopped right before entering the room._

_ "You're just a kid, Jack. Just because I didn't shout 'rape', doesn't mean I enjoy your company."_

_ He raised his eyebrows in amusement, but she ignored it and –as always – made herself bell of the ball before taking two steps into the luxuriously large ballroom. _

Her eyes flickered open and she caught him staring at her. Her nose scrunched up in distaste.

"Stop looking at me like that," she spat, immediately moving to a sitting position. She smoothed out the wrinkles in the flirty summer dress that she was still wearing from the day before.

"Like what per se, love?" he raised an eyebrow and she rolled her eyes, standing up and crossing the room. She took a sip of the water she'd abandoned the day before. Jack walked slowly across the room, leaning on the doorframe and gazing at her. His eyes slid possessively over her form.

"Do I need to make my request _again_?" she asked, clearly annoyed. Jack cleared his throat and flashed her a true Bass smile when she turned around and looked at him.

"I hardly think you requested it of me. Seemed more of a demand to me." He smirked. A hint of mischief flashed across her brilliant eyes, but it vanished into irritancy hardly a moment later. She set her glass of water down and moved across the room, her summer skirts moving with her with every step she took. When she reached the half-opened glass door leading to the balcony, she paused.

"It's almost noon," she said, sounding somewhat dazed. Jack nodded once, though she could not see him. He eyed her with a slight air of suspicion. He noticed then how her hand reached up behind her and pushed at her back. He smirked.

"That ache in your back would cease if you simply went to bed with me, Evelyn."

She whirled around and glared at him. "Never." He shrugged, seeming unfazed by her words. It wasn't as if he hadn't heard them before. He slid into the chair behind his desk and moved some papers around, skimming over the neatly typed words for something in particular.

Part of Elizabeth wanted to ask him what he was looking for. She'd asked him countless times before though and gotten the same answer, thus coming to the inevitable conclusion that this time would be no different. It did amuse her however, that he always came up with a different way to word the same direct point.

The sun's rays were streaming through the glass door and the small opening it seeped into the office. The warm Australian wind blew past her and she found herself drawn to balcony just as she did every morning in Jack's wake. She sat out there nearly all day most times. It was the farthest she could get from Jack without causing some sort of suspicion on his end. Despite her bitter attitude, she didn't want him to feel too threatened or outmaneuvered. In her brief encounter with Chuck and the phone calls that had made her heart ache, she'd become attached to the eighteen-year-old she'd abandoned in a fit of fear and abandonment, though that would have hardly been the case. She also had felt terribly trapped and chased. It was too much to bear. The responsibility of a child – her child – was simply too much. It was overwhelming, and she didn't want to ruin the poor child's life.

But Blair – _Chuck's_ Blair – the young girl who had been so very persistent on her son's behalf. Her words were a constant reminder in her mind. She reminded her so very much of herself at that age, except with courage and determination instead of fear, weakness and a lost sense of pride.

_"Chuck…has spent his entire life…believing that he killed his mother. If you know anything that could take away even a second of that pain, it would be cruel not to share it. Otherwise, leaving town means never having to say you're sorry."_

She had taken the young girl's advice. But not before luring her son in without an explanation. It was not the smartest of things to do, she realized now, but the love and devotion she saw in Blair for her son was so palpable. She felt a responsibility to at least try to form some sort of bond. Though, once again, fear had engulfed her and she'd run, just like she'd always done. The threat hanging over her by Jack didn't help matters.

She heard the phone ring from inside the office and leaned against the still half-opened glass door separating the office from the balcony. She knew it was information she'd dread – something against Chuck, and gloriously enjoyable to the Jack Basstard she'd known for far too long. She contemplated throwing some despicable wit in his direction, but whatever knowledge he'd just learned would probably have trumped her before it even fully left his lips.

"Love, I've got some great news," he beamed, approaching her. She remained put, not looking forward in the least to whatever he had to say. She said nothing.

"Aren't you even going to ask me?" he asked, leaning against the opposite side of the doorframe and smirking wildly at her. She blinked and said nothing. His smirk turned into a grin and she actually felt a chill in her gut for what was to come.

"She's taken the bait."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about?" He had never been clear on what his plan of action was in destroying Chuck, with good reason. But she thought she had pieced it together well enough. Now it seemed she had…miscalculated.

"Blair Waldorf has taken the bait." His gaze seemed to drift away from her face and out onto the Australian coast. "I knew she wouldn't be able to stand my dear nephew's ignorance much longer." He smiled, looking back at her.

Her lips parted and a horror greater than she'd imagined flashed across her face. _The girl could not have been that naïve or careless, could she have?_

"I imagine the two lovebirds will be here in a matter of days." He winked at her and slipped back into his office, leaving her speechless and with a new hole in her heart.

……………………………………………………………

He had actually slept in, and it was a glorious feeling. He hadn't felt this relaxed in weeks and the warm body cuddled next to him made him feel even more at peace, though extremely excitable as well. The sun streamed in through the blinds, and Chuck decided they would go out today, see the sights, away from this horrid hotel. In fact, he contemplated very strongly on the possibility of switching hotels as soon as possible. After all he'd put her through, it was the least he could do.

She could have sworn she felt a pair of soft, full lips caressing the skin on her arms and the curve of her shoulder. It seemed like a dream and she wondered if the remaining dust from her sleep still remained. She was starting to wake up but the beautiful feel of those lips and gradually hands made her want to force herself to continue in her sleep. It could not be reality. It simply could not be. And she had only been plagued with nightmares lately; she wouldn't let this dream come true drift away so easily.

"Blair…" she heard him murmur against her skin, his head nuzzling its way into the crook of her neck. It felt _so_ so good.

_Oh, this was definitely a dream. And a damn good one at that. _She refused to wake up.

"Wake up," he whispered softly. His breath in her ear tickled, but she did not register it as reality. She didn't think it was coming from the outside world. Sometimes dreams did feel incredibly real after all. Sometimes one woke up feeling like they'd just woken up from their doings of the night and perhaps with a brief memory of them.

"No," she moaned, turning a little in her half-awake half-asleep mode. She snuggled deeper into Chuck's embrace and suddenly became very aware of reality when his hand tightened around her waist and pulled her closer. Her eyes snapped open and she recoiled.

She gasped.

"What is it?" he asked, concerned. She could not find it in her to speak. This was not the Chuck she'd known for the last couple weeks. She wanted to pinch herself to make sure it was real, but she didn't want to risk it in case it really was still a dream.

"Am I dreaming?" she asked very hesitantly, almost in a whisper. His eyes softened and he smiled at her, threading his fingers through her own in an effort to calm her and bring her back to him.

"No," he said. She was still tense but his touch _had_ calmed her a little. Finally she relaxed when his touch did not vanish and his warm smile continued to look on adoringly at her.

"This doesn't feel real," she said.

He sighed softly, nodding. "I know, and I'm sorry for that." His fingers rubbed soothing circles on the back of her hand. "I've completely ignored you and you've done nothing but stand by my side through all of it. I wish you would have called me out on it."

She shook her head as if that was the most absurd solution she'd ever heard of.

"You were busy. You were trying to find your mother. You were—"

"That's no excuse," he said, cutting her off. His voice was still so incredibly soft, no anger or frustration seeping out whatsoever. She looked back up at him.

"Chuck, I…I…" she lost her voice in the bewilderment she felt in the situation. It seemed too surreal. She'd spent a month without him and several following when his father had died. But nothing seemed more painful than the last couple weeks in the same room with him and as if she was invisible.

Before she could even try to think another coherent thought however, he had closed the space between them, almost sprawled across on her, and he was kissing her. She thought she'd died and gone to Heaven. It was as if she'd never been kissed before, as if he'd never kissed her before. She felt so disoriented and actually began to shake as her lips parted for him and she quite willingly twisted her tongue with his. One of his hands moved steadily, firmly, down the side of her body and it calmed her. A desirous heat welled up in her core and her hands found themselves clenched in his thick, chocolate locks.

"God, _Chuck_," she cried out, accidentally spilling a few tears. Then she began to sob as he decorated her body with kisses. She couldn't believe that this was happening – that _Chuck Bass_ was kissing her when he'd hardly laid a hand on her in over a week.

"I'm sorry, Blair. I'm sorry," he mumbled all across her skin. "I should have let you in. God, I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you. I honestly don't."

He sucked and nibbled and flicked his tongue across her collar bone. And before she knew it, he was addressing her, fingering her and plunging his member into her with all the force he had. When he climaxed just moments after she had, she realized the lack of sexual activity must have been bothering him as well. She didn't know for how long, but she didn't need to. He was back in her arms, and though she feared how long it would stay that way, she refused to let her doubts ruin the moment.

"Oh, Chuck," she breathed heavy against his neck. His forehead was pinned to her shoulder, sweat droplets sweeping onto her trembling body beneath him. He raised his head to look at her. His fingers sifted through her beautiful messy brown curls and he leaned his lips down to capture the pouting rubies he'd allowed to go untasted by him for far too long.

"I love you, Blair. I love you so much."

She almost started crying again. A single tear drifted down her cheek and mixed in with his sweat on her face. She loved how well they fit together and how amazing he tasted. She loved how he touched her and how desperately he needed her. She loved how he held her and the passionate words he whispered hotly in her ears. She loved how he groaned when she touched him and how he made up for lost time. _God, she loved this man._

"I love you too," she whispered into him. He kissed her again.

"Promise to call me out on it if it ever happens again?"

Her mouth opened to respond, but he cut her off.

"Promise," he requested of her. She nodded simply, slowly, and smiled tenderly at him, cradling his face in the palm of her hand.

"I promise," she said very softly. His body had tensed briefly while waiting for her response, but now it relaxed in relief and he bent his head down again to capture her lips.

"You taste amazing, Blair. You feel amazing. God, you're so fucking perfect."

She shivered beneath him and he found his hands roving over her again. She could hardly believe this was all happening. If it was a dream, she never wanted to wake up. And if it was reality, she wanted to have this moment frozen in time forever.

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He grabbed her from behind as she moved across the main room, his arms soft and firm around her waist. She giggled despite herself. The sheer robe she'd draped around her wearing thin.

"Chuck!" she squealed. She felt him smile against her neck.

"Yes, love?" he asked innocently. She turned around and looked into his eyes, sparkling with adoration. "Were you actually attempting to do something?" He inquired. She quirked an eyebrow.

"Yes, as a matter of fact I was looking for something."

"Indeed…" he drawled, eyeing her in playful suspicion. She felt the great urge to kiss him, but knew it would only distract her further and so she untangled herself and moved further across the room.

"Yep, a file I found. Or rather, dug up," she laughed softly to herself. It hardly registered to her at the moment how nonchalantly she was talking about the information she had dug up behind his back because he would not open up to her. It was a few moments too long that there was silence and the realization hit her. She stood straight from her stance of rummaging through papers on the broad table on the far side of the room.

"Blair," he began. She turned around, now a little worried. A lump formed in her throat. She shook her head.

"You weren't telling me anything, Chuck," she began to defend herself. "I was worried, and I only started to do it a couple days ago, I swear. I just…" she sighed, frustrated with the situation that she'd only recently gotten out of. "I wanted to help, and you wouldn't let me." She nearly stomped her foot in frustration.

He moved over to her from across the room and soothed her by running his hands up and down her arms. Finally the tension that made her form go rigid gradually relaxed.

"Blair, I'm not mad at you for digging around. My P.I. told me you were relentlessly calling him." He smirked and she looked up at him, horrified.

"I…I…"

He silenced her with a quick kiss. She was almost jolted at the experience. The shock humored him and he pressed a kiss to her jaw and trailed a few more to her ear and down her neck.

"Chuck…" she moaned, not sure if she was protesting for him to stop so they could finish the conversation or to keep going because her life depended on it. Chuck chuckled and looked up at her, his eyes twinkling. Understanding swept over him.

"Tell me about this file. I may have seen it."

She sighed and nodded. "I saw the sign outside the hotel when I miraculously wandered into the world outside this hotel the other day," she said flippantly, gesturing about with her hand.

"The sign," he said blankly. She did not appear to notice the lack of emotion in his voice, but there was more than confusion in his mind. He hoped she was not going down the path he sensed she was. He didn't want her caught up in the mess that he'd delved into in the last week – at least not yet. He wanted to be by her side when she investigated, when _they_ investigated together. The possibility that she had ventured into it on her own scared him. Despite her clever scheming, he did not know if she could handle this. He could hardly handle it himself.

"Yeah," she said as if it were common knowledge. Then her tone changed. A frustrated held-back anger began to rise in her. "There's a high school world history competition going on here?" she asked angrily. Chuck sank into the plush chair thankfully nearby. His eyes glazed over as she continued. "And apparently it's sponsored by Chuck Bass," she put a hand on her hip, her nails digging into her skin.

Immediately his eyes darted up to hers. "I didn't sponsor it," he said, defensive. She scoffed.

"Oh, then who did? It says it's sponsored by Bass, Inc. Are you saying Lily did this behind your back?" she asked, mocking an agape expression. He stood to his feet and walked toward her, determined to avoid a fight at all costs.

"No, I'm not. But I swear, Blair, I had nothing to do with it."

Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms across her chest. He shook his head and turned away from her, walking a little ways across the room and staring out into a blank space on the far wall. He pursed his lips in frustration.

"I don't know…" he shook his head, extremely frustrated that he didn't know. He heard Blair starting to laugh mockingly and he spun around. "I swear, Blair, I don't. I've been trying to find out for the last week."

She felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. Her expression immediately shifted from mocking innocence and anger to dread.

"Chuck," she warned, but more to herself than him. Suddenly Chuck spotted a half opened file and slowly grabbed it, bringing it over to her. He held it loosely in both hands and very hesitantly looked up at Blair.

"It's a list and information of everyone involved in the competition," she said before he could ask. "When you wouldn't tell me, I set out to help in some other way. When I saw the sign…"

He groaned, turning away from her and dropping the file on the table. He put a hand to his head. He was shaking but it was hardly noticeable.

"Did you go anywhere?" he asked.

She was silent.

He spun around when he could take it no longer. "I said," his voice rose and quickly he contained his agitation. Swallowing his desperation, he cleared his throat and looked at her. "Did you go anywhere?" he asked.

She gave a little nod. Her lips parted. The words_ did you see anything? _and _did anything happen to you? Is there something you're not telling me_…were left unsaid. She looked up at him and a shaky breath of air slipped out of her.

"I saw something. I went somewhere. It…" she paused, trying to regain her strength. His searching eyes were almost unbearable to look at. "It wasn't safe, Chuck. There's someone here who…"

"_Shit_," he muttered, his head darting to the carpet in an attempt to think clearly. He followed the pattern on the floor in a way of concentration. He had done it often in the last week and sometimes it helped, to focus on something constant. He stopped in his ministrations when he noticed a reddened mark on the carpeting. He went to it and saw just before him a pair of Blair's shoes. He bent down and spread his hands across them. They were sprinkled with blood.

He stood up and walked back towards her. He looked at her and saw how scared and weak and fragile she looked. He reigned in whatever emotion might have overwhelmed her. He swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. His tense, rigid shoulders fell in pathetic regret. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at him and as he shook his head.

"I should have told you…"

"Chuck…" she took a step closer to him but he could not let himself feel warmth from her soft hand now on his face. "Tell me, please. Let me in." She was on the verge of sobs again. She dared not venture into the territory of abandonment and isolation. After the morning they'd had, she hoped wouldn't all be thrown away.

He looked up at her, his face pained and hopeless. Her hand slipped from his face.

"You're in danger," he said, and swallowed hard, his eyes burning with every word he said. "And I don't know if I can save you."

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A/N: *gasp* Review! lol


	7. Tainted Light

A/N: Wow, I'm so so sorry for taking so long to update. Things just got busy with school and I got swept up in my other stories, not to mention the CJ UK promo scared me to death and so I had to start a mini-fic for it. Heh. Now that it has been made obvious that everything in that promo was twisted to some degree, I feel much better and can write other things again. ;) Also, I technically only had outlined up to chapter 6 for this story, so I had to outline some more to figure out more of the specifics. I know in general what's going to happen, but not all the specifics, and I need those to…write chapters. Lol. Anyhow, I hope there are some of you out there still reading this! Please review!

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**Ch.7—Tainted Light**

She looked at him and blinked, extremely tempted to laugh just a little nervously so he could admit to what she hoped was just a sick joke. But her face hardly moved. There was no way she could even attempt a half-decent playful smirk.

"What do you mean?" she asked finally. A chilly fear ripped up her spine and she wondered if she'd slipped into another one of her nightmares. They'd been having such a wonderful time together only to be jolted by a quite possibly fatal situation. She didn't know which was worse – his abandonment or her possible death away from him. She shook her head, desperately trying to get the horrifying thoughts and images out of it.

Chuck swallowed hard and daringly placed his hands on her shoulders.

"You heard screams," he prodded. She nodded shakily. "You…saw blood." A breathy sigh escaped her.

"Yes," she said.

"And you went up there again…and there was…"

"Nothing," she whispered, looking up to him with watery eyes. He gulped, his fingers clenching tighter around her shoulders, afraid he'd lose her if he let go even for a moment. "It was clean, spotless," she continued. "But…"

He closed his eyes in anguish as she lost her voice, and then released her shoulders to grip her waist softly. She walked numbly to him and rested her face in the warm crevice of his neck. He was sweating.

"I need to tell you something."

She nodded softly against him. Her mind was racing and then nonexistent. Blank sheets filled it, racing past, and then words filled them, images she never wanted to remember. The horrible reality of what she may have embarked on just because she didn't want to be abandoned from his mission scared her more than what she could have possibly imagined. She wasn't even at a place to blame or hurt herself because of what she'd done. She couldn't even comprehend blaming _him_ because he'd left her alone so long. She was just scared and shaking and hoping that if Chuck held her long enough, it would all go away.

He guided them to the couch some feet away and sat her carefully on it. She quickly snuggled up to him when he sat down beside her, and he wrapped an arm firmly around her. With a shaky breath, he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"Tell me," she requested, her breaths shaky as well. It played out thoroughly when she spoke. Chuck cleared his throat softly, trying to be quiet about it. It almost felt like if they were too loud they would be discovered and tortured for what they knew. It was a scary thought, and had been one Chuck had been able to ignore as long as he avoided certain aspects of his investigation – the aspects Blair had unknowingly stumbled into.

"Mr. Samuel Corduran is the man you encountered—"

"—heard," she corrected.

"Heard," he amended, "when you went up to the twelfth floor where his hotel suite is located."

She gulped.

"He is posing as the administrator and ultimate authority for this…high school competition. He makes it look as if he's just a womanizer, player type person, but in reality, if he appears to be lusting after a girl, it is not for sex." He paused, not wanting to say the next words out loud. "It's for violence."

"He kills them," she said breathlessly, keeping her voice low.

"Yes," he confirmed. Her eyebrows furrowed suddenly, angry.

"Is it just some sort of hobby?" she gawked, shifting a little restlessly in his arms. Chuck shook his head.

"From what I've been able to discover, no. He's doing something illegal, some underground work, dealing with some very dangerous dealers all throughout the world. Whenever he needs to deliver his products, he moves to where his clients are, posing as the head of some academic establishment. The members of the school board he represents have always been oblivious. He covers his tracks well, and if someone does discover what he's doing and who he really is…"

"He kills them," she gasped. Chuck swallowed hard and nodded.

"It's not just illegal drugs and substances though. He grew up poor and so has a tremendous hatred for the well-off people he comes across. Unless they avoid him completely or make it worth his wild to interact with him, he kills them. There is no point in having him arrested either," he addressed, "as I said, he covers his tracks well. He has connections in the prisons, and the few times he has ended up in a jail facility, more than half the prison guards overseeing his activities, have mysteriously…disappeared."

"Oh my God…" she said, tears threatening to fall.

"He knows you were there, Blair."

She pursed her lips and held her breath to keep from crying.

"You've got to get out of here." His voice sounded so broken. He was scared to death of losing her. He couldn't take that risk. He only hoped she wouldn't fight him on the issue. She was silent for a few moments and then whirled around in his arms. It burned him to see the tears shimmering in her eyes.

"How have _you_ avoided him?" she asked, gasping. He nodded, knowing the question was only the beginning of many more.

"When I contacted my P.I. about my mother's whereabouts, he told me that this man had a connection to someone who might know where she is. Mr. Tyler also knew how dangerous he was though, and suggested I try to…make a deal with someone less threatening that was still connected to Mr. Corduran." He cleared his throat. "I came to this hotel because it was much less ritzy than any upper class person would be used to. It would be comfortable territory for this…Corduran. When I saw the sign for the high school competition, I knew he must somehow be nearby, but I was completely confused when I saw that Bass, Inc. was supporting the whole thing. I immediately thought of Jack, but…" He sighed, closing his hand over his eyes and forehead.

"You didn't want it to be true," she completed his thought. He raised his head back up.

"I didn't. Instead, I had my P.I. search down this woman who was connected to Mr. Corduran. I just learned recently that she's posing for a high school student in the competition. She's also staying at the hotel."

Her lips parted.

"Blair," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "if you don't get out of here as soon as possible, I can't promise I can save you from this, from _him_," his voice was desperate, needy and incredibly unstable, and his eyes were persistent and burning like fire. "I _need_ to be able to. _Please_."

She stared at him, scared, trying to figure out what she was going to do. And then realization hit her. Her eyebrows narrowed. "_No_."

He looked at her confused, his hand loosening around her shoulder. "Blair—"

"_No_," she said, getting defensive. She pulled away from him. "You take me halfway around the world—"

"You insisted on coming." His eyebrows narrowed now. She gaped.

"I wasn't going to let you run away from me again," her voice rose in pitch. He leaned forward and stared intently at her.

"Blair, you know I would never do that again."

She scoffed and backed away a little. "Oh, _please_. Because it looks to me like you got yourself in a whole lot of trouble all over _again_, and if it wasn't _me_ fearing for my life, it would be _you_!" she pointed her finger dangerously at him, hoping he would get the point. He did, but not in the way she'd wanted.

"_Exactly_!"

She fumed and then shook her head, staring at him in disbelief. "Can't you stop and think about someone other than yourself for one second?"

He gawked at her and stood to his feet. "I'm doing this because I want you to be _safe_. I think that qualifies as not being selfish, don't you?" A raging silence filled the space between them. "If I was being selfish about this, I would demand you don't leave. I would risk your safety because I would care about nothing but you being beside me all the time."

"Considering the fact that you could have cared less about me being beside you for the last couple weeks, I _think_ that's a risk that you should consider very seriously."

Both of their eyes were intense, fiery and refusing to back down. Finally Blair gathered up her purse and moved around the couch towards the door.

"Blair," he moved after her. Desperation seized him. He couldn't let her leave. _What if something happened to her before he sent her home? What if he couldn't save her before that evil man who __**knew**__ she knew too much did? What if it was too late? _

He didn't get a chance. The door slammed in his face before he even had a chance to say another word.

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She was wearing pants and a breezy shirt, unlike the flowy summer dresses she'd adorned almost every day for the past week. It wasn't that she had become overly uncomfortable with Jack's eyes lusting after her and undressing her with them every spare moment he got, but a change of pace was always good, and she was going to need it if she was going to get Chuck _and_ herself out of this mess. Not to mention his stunning, determined girlfriend that refused to leave his side.

That's why when Jack left the office and she could successfully spot him eating lunch with some of his businessmen on the sandy beach below, she took her move. He had taken her cell phone from her and any other form of communication she might have had, but conveniently he hadn't taken his cell phone down to lunch with him. Her eyes had sparkled at that revelation hardly a minute after he'd left the room and she could hear his feet resounding with a solid sound down the long mahogany staircase.

She had grown quite disgusted by him over the years, but he was tolerable. She couldn't say he had kidnapped her because she'd come with him and handed her things over to him of her own will. It wasn't the first time he'd threatened her. She wasn't afraid the last time and she wasn't this time either. Despite the short five year age difference between them, she'd always seen him as just a kid. She'd weasel her way out of his schemes just as well as she had done before. Of course now she had the safety of Chuck and his girlfriend to consider. That made her feel a little helpless, and would certainly make things more difficult. Just difficult though, not impossible.

"Lily," she said into the phone, watching Jack with every breath he took.

"Who is this?" the woman asked. Her brows furrowed. Elizabeth smiled politely as if Lily was right there in front of her. She was relieved the woman had answered her phone.

"My name is Elizabeth."

"I…uh…"

"I'm," she took a deep breath. Taking the plunge was usually something she didn't think twice about, and she certainly had waited too long to contact someone regarding the situation going on, but still, it would be an awful shock to the naïve woman waiting for her to continue her sentence.

"I'm Chuck's mother," she said coolly. Lily blinked, hardly believe what she'd heard.

"I'm sorry, who?" she asked. Elizabeth closed her eyes briefly.

"I'm Chuck's mother. I showed up in town to visit Bart's grave, and Chuck found me."

"Oh my God…" Lily was in shock but forced herself to focus on the conversation. She hadn't even made it to Bart's grave. Everything going on with William and Rufus and Serena had just proved to be too much. She couldn't stop to think about yet another husband she'd had. When Blair had told her later on that Chuck had recovered from his 'cold spell', she'd pushed past the issue completely.

"Well, uh, it's nice to hear from you, Elizabeth," she said politely. "Is there something I can help you with? Perhaps you'd like to know information on Charles?"

"That's what I wanted to talk to you about," she cleared her throat. "Chuck is in Taiwan with Blair searching for me." She heard a small gasp from Lily on the other end. "I'm with Jack in Australia, and I think…" she paused, "I think your step-son may be in danger."

A breath caught in her throat. "What…what can I do?" she cleared her throat. Suddenly she felt very hot and it was hard to breathe. Lily quickly patted her forehead with a handkerchief. There were droplets on her skin that felt familiarly like sweat.

Elizabeth sighed. "I'm not exactly sure, but you need to get Chuck and Blair back to New York. Jack won't tell me what he's planning, with good reason I'm sure, but it can't be good. He's been planning this for months, according to what my snooping tells me."

Lily pursed her lips. "O-Okay…alright." She was still trying very hard to breathe. "I'll see if I can…figure…something out…" She felt very much like the sky had decided to fall on her and her knees were shaking against each other.

_"Mom?"_ was heard in the background. _"Are you okay?"_

"I…I have to go, Elizabeth. I'll get back to—"

"Oh, no, wait! There's still something—"

A loud clatter was heard on the other end. Elizabeth's eyes widened and her jaw dropped. _The woman must have fainted! _There were still some things she had to tell her. She had to tell her that in the possible rescuing of Chuck and Blair, she couldn't let them know it was _her_ bringing them home. Otherwise, they'd never go. Or at least Chuck wouldn't. She didn't know how she was so certain of that factor, but decided she'd pin it on _maternal instincts_, if she even really had those. There was more that she had wanted to say too, but for the moments left her. All at once too.

Jack had left his lunch 'date'. She didn't hear any movement around the room or in the hallway though, and she gathered that that meant he hadn't come into the building yet. She retreated to the balcony, her now favorite location, and rested in the stylish beach chair that had been specially brought in for her. Jack was always big on presents, whether they were rewarded or not.

_"It was a wonderful night, Bart." Her eyes sparkled up at him and his brilliant smile overwhelmed her. She was so madly, deeply in love with him. Sometimes she could hardly breathe at the thought of it._

_ "It was for me, as well, Evelyn." He closed his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the back of her hand. She bit her bottom lip in the gentlemanly manner he was going about the farewell to their date. She'd heard many things about Bart Bass, but staying steady and just having a girlfriend __**period**__ was not one of them._

_ She was so caught up in the moment that she didn't noticed Jack Bass, Bart's younger brother, staring at them darkly from the glass window adorning the living room on the left side of the house. The air was chilly outside on the front veranda, but she didn't care. Bart's body warmth was incredibly protective and blocked out most of the chill she'd been feeling._

_ "Here," he said, slipping off his suit jacket and draping it around her bare shoulders. "You're cold." He dipped his head down to meet her lips with his own. "Keep it," he whispered against her mouth. Sensual chills traveled up her spine and bit her bottom lip again in excitement._

_ "But how will you keep warm?" she purred. She thought she heard his breath catch in his throat, almost as if he'd been caught off guard. She was filled with incredible excitement at the possibility of her having power over him._

_ "I'll dream of you," he murmured against her._

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The sun was starting to set when she came back. Chuck had been going out of his mind trying to find her somewhere out in the city. After half an hour though, he'd convinced himself that she'd return to the suite eventually – for her things, if for nothing else. That would be his one chance to smooth things over. The fight hadn't been horrible per se. They'd had worse. But after the bliss that had been their morning, he couldn't just let them be angry at each other. He certainly wasn't mad at her. He just wanted her to see it from his point of view.

His head looked up at her when the door opened and he heard her quiet footsteps. His hair was tousled and his expression looked weary, but he immediately straightened out his appearance and stood to his feet once she shut the door behind her. He couldn't tell what she was thinking, if she was angry or sad, or both. He didn't want to interrogate her about where she'd been and what she'd done or even what she'd decided. He wouldn't give her the power to choose when he felt he knew what was best, but most of all he didn't want to lose her. He didn't want to spark their fight again. It would grow like wildfire if he did.

"You're right," she said suddenly, looking at him determinedly. He blinked and his eyebrows furrowed. He found himself unable to speak. "I was being stubborn before and you were just looking out for me." She looked away briefly and pursed her lips. "I'm going to pack my things," she sighed, not letting on that she was devastated by her resignation or even that she wanted to cry.

Slowly, Chuck stood to his feet. He felt incredibly uneasy just looking at her. This had been what he wanted, but not like this. She looked so broken, and not in a way that she'd miss him. There was a little fear in her expression that suggested her certainty that he'd never come back to her. But he gathered where her real devastation was. She was convinced it was just like before that morning, except now it was worse. He wasn't ignoring her. He was sending her away.

The possibility that she was thinking that made him feel extremely guilty. He moved just a little in her direction but she walked faster to get to the bedroom.

"Just uh…let me know when I can go," she said quickly, shutting the door behind her without giving him another look. He stopped walking and painfully slouched over, his arms hanging freely at his sides. This was _not_ how he wanted things to go. But it was for her protection, he told himself. He nodded at that reassurance, almost smiled and then his face fell again, just as easily as it had been lifted up. _There was no kidding himself_. If she was going to leave, it was going to be the _right_ way, without resentment.

He marched over to the door and was about to open it, hoping she hadn't locked him out of their bedroom, when the door flung open. She looked rather flustered and was breathing hard.

"Just tell me one thing."

He nodded numbly. "What?" he rasped out.

"Why exactly were you dining at all those classy, fine dining restaurants across town?" she demanded. His eyebrows furrowed and he momentarily was at a loss for words. He had been thinking so hard about how to get Blair back home peacefully, that he'd lost almost all sight of the dangerous man who was the cause of her desperate escape.

"My uh…" he cleared his throat. "My P.I. found the upper class survivors of Mr. Corduran. I went to dinner with them so it wouldn't look suspicious and asked for details on their experiences with him, and how they came out of it."

She sighed noticeably. It seemed as though she were rather relieved. Chuck concentrated on this and came to the conclusion that she was double-checking that he wasn't just making her leave so he could cheat on her in the comfort of his own suite. He shuddered at the thought, and of her thinking. _He wanted to reassure her properly…_

"Right." She closed the door slowly and locked it. He groaned. "Goodnight, Chuck," she said from behind the door. He could hear her moving around in the bedroom. He sighed and looked out the window. The sun was a brilliant orange ball of light in the sky, still visible above most of the skyscrapers.

He ran a hand through his hair.

"Blair—"

"I'm busy packing, Chuck. Maybe you can talk to me when I'm back in New York, on the phone naturally." She sounded like she was beaming. He hated the serious-sarcasm in her voice. He gaped, but not before a follow-up growling and angry eyes narrowed at the locked mahogany door.

"Blair!" he shouted.

"Busy!" she shouted back.

"_Blair_, we need to talk about this," his voice lowered.

"There's nothing to talk about, _Chuck_. I'm leaving."

"Not like this, you're not."

"It's what you wanted!"

He gaped at her. "Since _when_?" She did not answer. "Blair, I've always wanted you to be happy! But you can't be happy if you're dead!" He almost cried out. She didn't answer. "Blair!" he pounded on the door. She said nothing. "Blair, we have to talk about this!"

He shook the doorknob that would not unlock and continued to pound on the door that would not fall through. Blair said nothing, did nothing, and thoroughly exhausted, he eventually resigned himself to collapsing against the door, his back facing it. Maybe she would slip out in the need to escape the semi-cluttered room. Maybe then he would be able to force her to talk about the situation with him. And if not, his powers of seduction often proved very convincing. He hoped that line of thinking was not in question this time around, given the situation. He would _not_ let her go home with them tattered and fluttering in the wind. He needed her too _god damn_ much.

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A/N: Hope you enjoyed. =) The chapter took me freaking forever. Lol. Please review! And vote on my poll if you haven't. ;p


	8. In the Blood

A/N: So so SO late, I know, but better late than never. ;p I have to write up and hopefully finish the outline for this fic, so it may be a little while before the next update, but nothing you're not already used to, I'm sure, what with this being the least popular fic of mine. *rolls eyes* Anyways, please enjoy and review. I really _really_ appreciate those of you who are so into this. The reviews are very rewarding. =)

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**Ch.8—In the Blood**

"Mr. Bass!"

Jack steeled his hand away from its frozen place over the door handle. He turned back towards his colleague.

"What is it?"

"Are you…eh," the man seemed suddenly nervous, "are you sure your nephew is going to come here? I mean, what would make him come?"

Jack flashed him a brilliant smile. "You seem to doubt my abilities, Robert. I've been planning this for over a year. I've shared the details of the scheme with you and the rest of the guys countless times. Why the sudden doubt?"

The man shrugged. "I don't know. We were all just talking after you left and…"

"And what?" Jack's brows narrowed. "You don't think I'd follow through with rewarding your flawless efforts?"

Robert's lips parted but he said nothing more. Jack's face relaxed.

"I suggest you trust me, Robert, and make sure to pass that vote of confidence on to the rest of your friends." He smiled, hints of danger flashing across his eyes. He gripped the man's shoulder as what might have seemed friendly encouragement to an outsider. The man did not miss the subtle threat in his touch though.

"You've got a lot on the line if you don't," Jack continued. The man's eyes widened briefly, but he was interrupted before he could voice his thoughts again. "Chuck's just a kid, remember, and he's back in that same vulnerable place I found him in last year when his father died. Whatever supposed support system he has cannot possibly withstand this. It will _ruin_ him. His relationship with his girlfriend has already started to crumble."

The man seemed to accept the words. He gave him a curt nod and walked away with his briefcase in hand. Jack looked up towards the terrace attached to his office and smirked at the slender form of Elizabeth Fisher sitting in relaxation on one of the pricey beach chairs he'd gotten her. His hand found the door handle and he slipped in past the glass door.

"Honey, I'm home!" he announced to the empty room. He looked around the interior, stepping just a foot or so in the direction to his left in order to peer into his bedroom and see if that was where Elizabeth Fisher lay. The sing-song sigh informed of her presence still on the terrace and he knew he shouldn't have doubted in that short length of time. He lazily crossed the room and leaned his rugged form against the sliding door's frame. The warm, Australian sun created shadows on his face.

"Pity," she said dryly, almost sorrowfully as she stared out into the sea. One leg was crossed over the other and her hands delicately lay in the lap of her dress – the red and white striped one he said he was least fond of. Jack's lips quirked up at one corner.

"Did you miss me?" he asked, clearly amused. She decided not to validate that question with a response and just reached for her lemonade on the low glass table beside her, taking a quiet sip and holding the cool container in the center of both hands. Jack was still oddly amused.

"Chuck should be coming soon," he said, pushing himself off the doorframe and going to stand almost in front of her, "with Blair in tow, I imagine." His eyes washed over her face and her form. He was fascinated with the way the light, summer dress whirled around her smooth calves. Elizabeth brought the glass back to her lips and took another sip, dampening her lips. She said nothing, hoping Jack would just give up and leave again, but he did no such thing. She waited at least a minute longer and then slowly raised her gaze to his rugged form.

"Wonderful," she said, all the trademarks of sarcasm clearly present. "Does that mean I'll be able to leave this horrid place before I wilt like one of your pathetic tropical plants?" she restrained the overwhelming desire to push him over the side of the banister. Jack looked over at the flourishing _Sturt's Desert Pea_ flower and how its vertical diamond shape petals fluttered in the wind, their red essence soaking up the sun with their vibrant color.

"Either option seems pliable to me," he said calmly, falling into the trance of the flower. He was about to go off on a lecture of the history of the plant, but the way Elizabeth's temper was rising, he didn't exactly think that would profit the situation in his favor.

_A warm summer day engulfed the whole of New York City. He had been watching her cautiously from just beyond the ice-cream shop. He didn't know such fascinating creatures as Evelyn came to this part of town, but he was beyond pleased that she did. That way he wouldn't have to go searching for her in some overpriced café on the Upper West Side where his brother usually took her. He always knew she was more of a simpleton, even if she didn't admit to it. The fact that she had the studded diamond bracelet Bart had given her dangling around her wrist meant nothing._

_ "Jack?" he heard her ask. His eyes flicked up to hers and he straightened himself away from the outside brick wall of the building he'd been leaning on. He realized he must have gotten too lost in his own thoughts to have noticed her presence moving towards his general direction. He cursed himself for it and blessed the breeze for wiping away the brief bit of embarrassment sweat that had welled up on his forehead._

_ "Evee," he said casually, one hand stuck in his pocket. Her eyebrows narrowed faintly. He had never called her by that name before and she didn't like the idea of intimate nicknaming between them. "I see you're still wearing that bracelet."_

_ Her annoyance dulled and her eyes flicked down to the jewelry sparkling in the sun. She began to smile. "I haven't taken it off once since he gave it to me." She looked up at him, completely in the glowing element he had come to witness her in whenever Bart was around it made him sick._

_ "Always?" he asked, stepping towards her. She seemed a bit confused, but nodded. "Even in the shower?" he inquired, a heat rising in his eyes. Her brows narrowed again and a fire lit her eyes, but a dangerous negative one as far across the spectrum from his as it could get. Jack too advantage of her changed mood however, seeming to glory in it and continued to walk towards her. "When your nude body is wet and glistening, and all you have on your—"_

_ "S-Stop!" she demanded of him, pushing him away from her so he could not come any nearer. She didn't know if it was the words he was saying or the fact that it was him that was saying it, but she did not like either explanation. For a brief moment she even felt scared when all that rested on his face was cocky amusement from her demand. She forced herself to forget about the 'child' who deigned to cause trouble between her and Bart. She took a deep breath and moved forward, away from him. He didn't heed the warning though, as she knew he wouldn't. Instead he followed her, walking in full stride beside her and when the following stoplight caused them both to halt, he turned to her and extended the vibrant red flower he'd hidden behind his back._

_ Despite herself, Evelyn's eyes widened at the beauty in it. For that brief moment, Jack convinced himself that she was more mesmerized by his flower than she'd ever be with one of his brother's gifts. He'd handpicked it from the base of what would be the new Bass incorporation in Australia. He imagined it sitting flawlessly in her hair, drawing out the sweet colors of her face and the depth of her eyes whenever he dreamed. He would have made that vision a reality if she had not stepped outside the trance he'd brought her under._

_ "I don't want it," she said, her eyes narrowed._

_ "Who said I'm giving it to you?" he asked, cocky grin – as always – in place. The walking sign appeared half-way down the street light and she took advantage of it, fuming and crossing the street. Jack tried to follow her but she demanded that he stay away and for some reason that demand always stuck with him for awhile._

_ "Evee!" he called after her half-way across the street. She did not respond and give him the pleasure of her distaste of the name. "Evelyn!" he shouted, but she was half-way down the next block and cars were beginning to honk at him for his direct presence in the middle of the street. He sighed and retreated to the brick building from which he'd come. _

"You're impossible," he heard her huff as she stood from her seat and moved back into the office. She rummaged through one of her bags in the back and pulled out a sketchpad and a few drawing pencils. Then she positioned herself on the plush couch in the center of the room.

It had taken Jack a few moments to react, still lost in his memory, but he moved back inside and watched her as she drew.

"Everything still stands," he told her, analyzing her form as she drew. "If you try to escape before he gets here, things will become so much worse for all of you." Her eyes flickered up to his momentarily and her pencil halted in her hand.

"So you've told me. But how exactly would it get worse? I imagine you cannot get away with killing or kidnapping. What else is there?"

He smirked, amused again. "I kidnapped you, didn't I?"

"That was different," she said. He raised his eyebrows, the amusement never fading from his eyes.

"How pray tell?" he asked, teasing her. He could almost see the tension filling her arms and legs and shooting all over her body. She was about to explode.

"Forget I asked," she muttered, reigning in her emotions and moving the pencil across her sketchpad again. Jack pursed his lips and moved towards his desk, sitting in the chair on the other side of it. He scooted forward and kept his eyes fixed on the silk tendril of hair that floated down around her ear and barely brushed against her neck.

"I'm the bad guy here, Evee." She stilled when he used the name on her, but forced herself to keep drawing. "I can't give away all my secrets to those who are not on my side." Her head quickly turned and looked at him.

"It would be more of a threat than a giving away of secrets. You wouldn't be telling me how you're going to accomplish what you do," she said simply, softer than he could have ever expected. He seemed to contemplate the idea for awhile.

"I've never threatened you," he said, soft as she'd just been. His tone caught her by surprise and all defense or interrogation vanished from her mind as he pulled out some business papers and began to go through them. She was caught in a gaping trance for almost a minute before she shook the feeling off and resumed her drawing.

If she thought very hard she could force some instances of them together some twenty years earlier of when he might have threatened her. But none of it was direct, most was just angry pleading. Jealousy. He had never given her serious cause to be frightened by him. It was his pining for her that gave him his steady hand.

…

"Mom? Mom, are you okay?" Serena asked, waving her hand in front of her mother's face as she lie crumpled on the ground. Lily moaned a little and blinked a little groggily.

"Serena," she said, her eyebrows moving about in confusion. Her head turned a little to see Nate also kneeling on the floor next to her daughter. "What-What are we doing on the floor?" she chuckled a little. The other two broke out into smiles and slowly pulled the older woman up off the floor and lead her over to the couch.

"What happened?" she asked, when they'd finally gotten there. Serena sat facing her mother and Nate sat directly behind her.

"You fainted," she said. "You were talking to someone on the phone and then you just fainted."

"Your face went really pale before you did though," Nate added. Serena nodded along with her boyfriend's addition. Lily pursed her lips before recognition slammed through her. She gasped, her hand reacting to the same thought by hovering over her mouth.

"Elizabeth," she said pointedly, as if it explained everything. Both Nate and Serena's brows furrowed in confusion. Lily closed her eyes briefly and recalled the entire conversation. When she'd finished telling the two, they were both dumbfounded.

"Chuck's _mother_?" Serena asked, aghast. Immediately she was filled with a need to help him, more intense than maybe might have been had her own parental void been filled. Nate felt her tense and put a hand gently on her arm; she relaxed.

"Jack is _not_ good news," Nate sighed and shook his head. The two Van der Woodsen's were not rude enough to look at him and give him a _no duh_ look, but the thought was there. The only thing that prevented the action, besides decency, was the fact that what he said was entirely too true and it shook them to the core. Lily had been scarred the last time they'd seen the Jack Bass, and Chuck had been left in shambles.

"So, what do we do?" Serena asked after a long while, watery eyes looking into her mother's helpless empty ones. Lily looked up at her daughter.

"Well," she began, attempting cheeriness. "Elizabeth – Chuck's supposed mother – suggested that I, or we, do something to get Chuck and Blair out of there. I think things are far more serious than they would have been had Chuck and Blair stayed in New York." She sighed shakily.

Serena shook her head. "I knew it was not just some extended vacation. I should have never listened to Blair." She muttered. Lily placed her hand over her daughter's.

"Now, now, dear. I'm sure Blair had her reasons." She forced a weak smile. Then she clapped her hands together and gave them each a bright smile, hoping to pass the encouragement on. "We just have to find out where they are and prevent them from getting to Jack." She cleared her throat. "That should be easy enough." She raised her eyebrows in a need for them to agree with her. Both teens looked doubtful. "Elizabeth told me they were in Taiwan." She sighed, a little annoyed when neither still responded. "Doesn't one of you have a private investigator?"

Serena was shocked by her mother's sudden appalled state, but she looked at Nate and knew the expression was mirrored on her own. "No, mom," she said. "Nate and I never had any reason to. Most often we trust people." She knew she'd be laughing at the statement had it been spoken in a different context. "Private investigators were always Chuck and Blair's thing." Nate nodded along to the statement.

"Oh, for Heaven's Sake!" Lily exclaimed, sufficiently frustrated with the lot of them. It wasn't that she was mad at the two children seated on the couch beside her. It was just that their very normal lifestyle was so very inconvenient at a time like this. "I will just have to track down Andrew Tyler myself and demand some answers." She flew up from the seat and moved over to the kitchen counter in search of the phone that had fallen from her hand when she'd fainted.

Nate and Serena looked at each other helplessly, but still stood to their feet and followed Lily across the room.

"Mom, is there anything I can—?" Serena's attempt was cut off by Lily's lifted forefinger as she listened into the phone for her husband's – and probably now Chuck's – P.I. to answer.

"Mrs. Bass," she heard on the other end. Lily smiled victoriously and was about to speak when the phone beeped with an incoming call. She ignored it and began to talk, informing him about news she needed concerning Chuck. The phone beeped again, but she ignored it. The P.I. was being particularly resistant and denying her information to anything, since he was Chuck's P.I. and even the transition from Bart to his son had proved difficult. Lily tried to stress the importance of her call and the need for information, but he would have none of it, saying that Chuck had insisted none of what they discussed be passed on to anyone. Lily was growing increasingly frustrated. The fact that the phone had beeped at least five more times in the space of ten minutes did not help matters.

"Mr. Tyler, I'll have to call you back." She hung up the phone before the man could respond. She was still fuming from her very unsuccessful conversation with him when she scrolled through all the missed calls she'd just gotten. They were all from _Bass, Inc_. Lily's eyebrows scrunched together in slight confusion.

"That's odd. I wonder what they're wanting this morning," she mused. Serena looked up from her fidgeting fingers and eyed her mom with slight suspicion.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Nate's hand wrapped around Serena's waist clenched ever so slightly. It was as if he could feel the tension about to invade them all. Lily didn't answer, only dialed the number to the Bass management.

"I see you just left—" she paused, mid-sentence and her eyes widened in a restrained horror as to what was being told her on the other end. "I….see," she managed. Then swallowed hard. "I will…I will explore my options and get back to you. If I need assistance, we will conjure a meeting." She smiled briskly and hung up the phone. Serena and Nate were looking at her warily when she finally laid the phone on the counter. She decided it was in the best interest of all of them that she not hide her new information.

"_Bass, Inc._ is being sued."

Both Nate and Serena's eyes widened dramatically.

"For _what_?" Serena managed.

"Well, several things actually," Lily said airily, lightly brushing a tendril of blonde hair away from her face, even as it dropped back along her smooth skin less than a second later. "But the one that sticks out the most is Charles' sexual harassment of several young women in the company, many of which who are overseas at the moment and," she paused, trying to come to grips with the situation, "near Taiwan."

…

"Good morning!" Blair chirped, fluttering out of the bedroom at six in the morning the next day. Chuck groggily rubbed at his eyes, too tired to entirely register what was happening. He had hardly gotten a wink in during the night, had been too insistent to watch for Blair's maybe eruption from the room. Safe to say, it had never happened. He just hoped this farewell would go quickly and without too many emotional tears. He needed a good night of sleep at _least_ to continue on with his mission.

"Blair?" he asked, his voice squeaking a little. She turned towards him and yanked him up from his half-lying position on the couch.

"Yes, sleepy-head, it is I. And we are going to be late if you don't fix up that…attire of yours," she gestured in disgust to his rumpled wear from the day before.

Chuck blinked, focusing in on the reason for her cheery attitude, and time of day in which she woke up. "Blair, you're still leaving."

She scoffed, placing her hands demandingly on her hips. "_Obviously_, Chuck. That is why you need to fix your attire. You may not be going with me back to New York, but I hope you'll at least see me off, and I do _not_ want you looking like _that_ when you do."

He sighed, reminding himself mockingly how he should have been prepared for this, even at six in the morning. Blair was not pleased in the least about having to leave. Her best defense mechanism and way to cope was to act like everything was fine and put on her best bitch mode. It was what he would have done, but that didn't mean it was going to help the situation any.

"I arranged for the Bass airplane to be ready at quarter past noon," he said, his voice neutral with a hint of distaste. "What are you doing up at six in the morning?" he held in the ice begging to attack the tone in which he spoke. Blair only blinked.

"You didn't tell me when we were going to leave, Chuck." Her cheery mood dimmed a little and Blair Bitchtastic came into play. "Better safe than sorry." She moved past him and into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Less than a second later, she turned the knob so it opened a little, clearly an invitation for him to go in and find some clothes. Chuck groaned but steadily trudged towards the door.

Once he was inside and in front of the closet, Chuck paused and turned towards where Blair was sitting on the bed. The bed was made. All of her suitcases were filled and neatly lined up along the far wall, and she was a little too casually flipping through a fashion magazine he knew she'd dissected more than a few times. He parted his lips to say something, but thought better of it and turned back to find an outfit. He reminded himself that the one thing he had clung to the night before was the need to calm the waters between him and Blair before she left. Still, he was finding the task quite undesirable. He set out for the shower, hoping the experience would rejuvenate him and wake up his senses enough to take on the fiery storm that was his one and only Blair Waldorf.

…..

The limo slowed and parked itself in the secluded part of the large airport. Chuck and Blair weren't speaking. Rather, Blair was refusing to speak to Chuck. He'd taken one last stab at talking through the situation with her after they'd gotten out of the shower. It'd proved unsuccessful, as his mind had been telling him it would. Blair simply could not understand the dire desperation in their situation. He was sending her home to protect her. All she could see though was the same situation from the year before, with slightly alterable facts. Chuck was running away for some solution he couldn't find, and he was going to run straight into evil Uncle Jack who wanted nothing more than to destroy his nephew and reclaim _Bass Industries_. The whole point to Blair's coming with Chuck was so it wouldn't be a repeat action from the year before. His 'escorting' her to the airport was just as bad and heartbreaking as the hastily written he'd left on her pillow the night after his father's funeral.

_I'm sorry for everything._

_ You deserve much better._

_ Don't come looking for me._

_ -Chuck_

Blair just could _not_ get that memory out of her head, and what followed afterwards. She swallowed hard and suddenly clutched at Chuck's arm when she felt him move towards his door to step out of the car. Immediately he looked back towards her, first zooming in on her shaky grip on his arm. Slowly, his other hand brushed over the light hairs on her arm.

"What is it?" he asked gently, his voice quieter than he'd expected. Her eyes raised to his.

"I don't want you to come anymore."

His eyebrows narrowed, demanding an explanation.

"Stay in the car. I don't want you going with me any farther. I-I need to accept that we're going to be apart," she said, her breath hitching a bit with approaching tears. Chuck's face fell in overwhelming concern. He had certainly been startled when she grabbed at him and was prepared for one last bitchy remark, but her defenses had all fallen here at the end. He scooted closer to her and shut the door behind him. Her hold on him released and her eyes closed when he cupped her face in his hands.

"Hey, this isn't going to be permanent. We won't be apart forever."

She opened her eyes and looked at him, nodding. Her tears were now on the brink of spilling out onto her cheeks. She didn't deny his statements angrily at all. She had obviously come to the conclusion that despite her usual techniques, staying was no longer an option, and it might even hurt Chuck to do so. _She never wanted to hurt him._

"I'm going to come for you," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. Her breath caught in her throat and a tear finally spilled down her cheek and he caught it on his finger. She threw herself into him suddenly and began to sob. He held in his own desperate emotions and tried to soothe her by stroking her silky, brown hair.

Blair's door opened wider and Chuck looked to see not Arthur standing there but a man he did not recognize. He looked dangerous, very serious and very intimidating.

"Mr. Bass," he addressed in a demanding voice. Chuck hated how Blair suddenly tensed and stilled in his arms.

"I'm not coming on this trip," he informed him, also hating how another of Blair's tears spilled out and this time spilled onto his neck. She was so completely broken, her head fallen into his neck.

"I'm aware of that, Mr. Bass, but there is still something of great importance that must be addressed. Your plane is the closest secluded place beside this limo, which I'm sure you don't want to squeeze a few extra unknown men in." Chuck thought of how Blair might react to strange, probably dangerous-looking men during her vulnerable, helpless state. Chuck nodded and waved the man away, so they could step out of the vehicle. Gently, he encouraged Blair to move towards the plain, his arm wrapped warmly around her waist.

They both stepped onto the plane, and somehow Chuck just knew something was wrong. He looked around and saw as the Bass employees all vacated the plane. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and an approaching fury.

"What's going on?" he asked, noticing how the door to the plane shut tightly. "What do you—?" his mouth snapped shut as the man moved to the cockpit along with another individual, and two very familiar people stepped forward. Blair seemed to register the eerie feeling as well. She wiped off the remaining tears on her face and looked up at the people who'd just made themselves known.

"Take a seat," the man told them, moving in their direction and forcing them into seats that immediately buckled them in. Soon after, they realized there were two burly men standing behind them. Blair gulped.

"It's…it's…" she tried to whisper to Chuck but couldn't find the words to continue. Chuck squeezed her hand tightly and nodded subtly, confirming he knew exactly what she was trying to tell him. Her eyes shifted over to the other individual, a woman. "Is that—?" she asked. Chuck nodded again, this time more direct.

"Yes," he breathed. The man and woman who'd just approached them seemed amused, though obviously not watching Chuck and Blair's every move.

"Allow us to introduce ourselves," the woman smirked devilishly. "Though, I'm sure you've both met either of us on one occasion or another." Blair swallowed hard, couldn't seem to _stop_ doing it. "I'm Amanda Grey," the woman said. "And this is—" she gestured to the man beside her.

"—Samuel Corduran," he finished, smiling as well. His gaze shifted only to Blair. He stepped closer to her. Chuck watched him dangerously, his fury threatening to explode. "So, you were the lovely little thing prancing about outside my hotel suite." He cupped her face in one of his hands." She felt tainted. He moved away, shared a look with the woman and she walked away into some small room near the cockpit.

"What did you want to talk about?" Chuck managed to spit out. Mr. Corduran raised his eyebrows in the boy's gutsy move. He lifted his jacket ever so slightly to reveal the gun stuck in its holster. Blair's eyes widened but she forced herself to remain calm.

"I wanted to talk about how magnificent the inside of this plane looks," he said, vaguely looking about the interior. Chuck was fuming and beyond confused. _Were these people actually planning on holding them for ransom?_ The man's eyes fell back to Chuck's. "And on the new destination the _both_ of you will be ending up at in a matter of hours."

Both teens were speechless. Mr. Corduran's grin spread wide across his face, showing off a dazzling set of pearly white teeth.

"Australia," he said, "Sydney, to be exact. Your uncle has been dying for you to pay him a visit." His eyes shifted briefly to Blair. "_Both_ of you." It looked like he wanted to say more, but he held his tongue and simply smirked, heading towards the back of the plane.

Chuck and Blair were in an extreme state of shock. Blair gulped again as the plane took off and a blindfolded Arthur was left stranded on the abandoned end of the airport. Chuck saw his limo driving off into the distance and flying straight into its impending death a short cliff away.

Chuck's hand tightened once more on Blair's hand, and her head fell onto his shoulder. He could feel her shaking, and the only thought that thrummed through him was the realization that he never wanted her out of his sight again.

…

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! The Australian red flower I mentioned is actually a real flower, in case you were curious. I looked it up! hehe *beams* Please review. I am pretty much positive _Flashback_ will be updated next. ;)


	9. Cage Corner

A/N: So, so, _so_ late. Again. Forgive me?

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch. 9—Cage Corner**

Chuck was agitated. During the long plane ride, Blair had managed to get herself together. She was still screaming on the inside, but the scared, helpless victim was not the sort of image she wanted to give off. Especially if she'd be encountering _Jack Bass_ again. She shuddered on the inside just at the thought of his name. She'd never wanted to see him again, let alone willingly _visit_ him. It was by pure force she was doing it. She was sure Chuck felt the same way.

Chuck's hands clenched tightly around hers. Unlike his girlfriend, Chuck was unable to hide his discouragement and lack of scheming abilities quite so well. He had always kept his cool, but he'd been so focused on keeping that cool throughout the last few weeks that now that he actually needed to use it, he could no longer summon it. His hands had become sweaty but he was hardly aware. His eyes just remained pinned to the doorway Mr. Corduran and his counterpart, Amanda, had exited out of. His heart was beating fast almost the whole time. Blair had been lucky enough to get him to take a sip of water that she'd retrieved from the small fridge across the plane compartment. He'd taken it without thinking as he stared on ahead at the doorway. Blair wondered if he would have refused at the thought that it could be poisoned…somehow. She had planned an argument if that was the case. She was almost disappointed that he did not exert any energy towards a refusal over the beverage.

The seatbelts that had initially crushed them into the comfy passenger seats relaxed after the plane took off. Both Chuck and Blair had had an uneasy feeling. It felt like a kidnapping, but it was somehow more…easy-going than they'd expected a kidnapping to go down. That thought alone had been what had sent Blair into control-mode and Chuck into a frantic panic.

"Chuck," Blair leaned towards him and whispered in his ear. He jumped and then turned his head towards her, visibly relaxing as if he'd expected someone else to be next to him. Concern washed over her face and she brought her hand around to rest against his cheek. He almost appeared to have melted into it. She wished she could hold him, but she knew he wouldn't allow it. Not for earlier reasons though, and that thought comforted her.

"I'm kind of glad we got kidnapped." She smiled slightly. He did not have the energy to share a witty banter with her, but he did look at her kind of questioningly.

"_Glad_?" he asked in disbelief.

She looked a little unsure suddenly at her statement, but shrugged casually in response. "I didn't want to leave you," she confided, as if he hadn't known before. She had to remind him.

Chuck smiled wearily at her. Then, without thinking, he leaned in and laid a smooth soft kiss on her lips. Blair didn't moan, thinking it would startle him, but she did linger on the kiss as long as she possibly could. Her fingers threaded through his hair and wrapped around his neck. Whatever other conversation that might have transpired between them was instantly halted with the light knock on the side of the doorway Chuck had intently stared at for the last few hours.

"Love birds?" Mr. Corduran cleared his throat. Amanda was hidden behind him, mischievous grin restlessly riding on her lips. Chuck and Blair only turned their heads to look at them, sudden grim expressions on their face. It was as if neither had transferred into a different, desperate or in-control mood during the plane ride. In the face of an audience, the two were fearless.

Mr. Corduran smiled a devious, slow smile that somehow still showed a bit of charm. It was so very deceiving. Chuck remembered how he'd showed it off to the young naïve girls on the high school debate teams. He knew it showed an eerie resemblance to how he used to lure girls in during his high school days. _He wasn't a criminal mastermind and a kidnapper though, not even in high school_, he reminded himself.

"We're about to land," he told them. Blair fleetingly glanced out the small window to her right and concluded that he was indeed correct. She sighed briefly and turned back to look at him. Her eyes shifted up to his in mock-anticipation. His lips curved smoothly into a mischievous grin.

"Mr. Bass—" his eyes shifted to Chuck's momentarily before sliding back to Blair's. "Jack Bass, will not be at the airport. He is looking over things at Bass Australia Inc. We will be your escorts."

"Escorts?" Chuck almost scoffed.

Amanda stepped towards them, sly smile gracing her lips. "Escorts. This isn't a kidnapping," she told them, though clearly holding back some sort of almost laughter. Chuck and Blair didn't exchange looks. They didn't need to. Something was off.

"You can try to run and hide anytime you want," she clarified with a shrug. "But it's a dangerous world out there. You pay for everything, including freedom."

Chuck swallowed hard, somehow being able to hide it to the two individuals before him. The glint in their eyes looked deadly. And if this operation wasn't technically illegal, he didn't know he was going to get himself – or more importantly, Blair – out of it.

"You really think people are going to believe that we just came for a visit to the one man who has single-handedly ever tried to destroy Chuck?" Blair spat. Chuck heard her after the fact and intensified his gaze on Amanda and Mr. Corduran. The awe-struck effect he felt for his girlfriend would have to remain sheltered for the time being. This was no time for mushy admiration.

"No one knows of Chuck's amnesty with his uncle," Mr. Corduran said smoothly. "And he's his sole living relative. Why shouldn't he visit?"

Blair opened her mouth to respond, but the plane had already started to descend and her ears were painfully popping with the changing air pressure. She squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her fingers tighter around Chuck's hand. He returned the action with great fervor.

…

During the long, sleepless nights searching for his mother, Chuck never imagined his reunion with his mother playing out like this. He thought maybe she had run off because she had gotten cold feet in actually confronting her son again, or maybe that her life was in danger in New York. Something of the like, though obviously the latter was a stretch. Being "escorted" by two criminal masterminds – essentially – to his evil Uncle Jack's lair only to see his mother draped around the one subject of his hate made Chuck furious. It felt like all his weeks had been wasted and were for nothing. He'd shut Blair out, unintentionally put her in danger and paid countless people, worked secretly, to find the location of his mother. Sentimental reasons simply were not acceptable at this point.

"Chuck," Jack said coolly, his hand squeezing around Elizabeth's hip affectionately. "Blair," his eyes drifted to Blair, lingering a little too long. Chuck felt her tense beside him. Jack's eyes shifted back to Chuck's. "How nice of you to join us."

Chuck almost exploded at his uncle's calm demeanor but he silenced himself long enough not to make a scene. They were still standing in the lobby of Bass Australia Inc. With a nod, Jack dismissed Amanda and Mr. Corduran. He made a gesture to a nearby security guard and the floor seemed to be suddenly vacated. A sly, evil, yet remarkably charming smile evolved onto Jack's face.

"Shall we?"

Chuck and Blair followed the older Bass to the elevator and up to his office. Blair felt incredibly constricted in the elevator. _Too close to Jack_, screamed in her head. It calmed her just a fraction that Chuck's hand was tight around her arm. It gave her a thin veil of protection, one she hoped she could always cling to. She wasn't aware in the slightest of Chuck's eyes piercing the gentle hand-holding between his Uncle Jack and supposed biological mother, Elizabeth Fisher.

"You're probably wondering why I requested this little visit," Jack said casually once they'd gotten inside his office. The top level of the building appeared to be completely deserted. All the doors were left open. There was not a single suggestion of kidnapping. It didn't look it, and onlookers certainly would have never guessed. Besides Chuck and Blair's subtle tension, nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

"_Requested_?" Blair asked, a little too calm for comfort. Jack smiled at her.

"Still as feisty as ever, aren't ya, Blair?" He winked at her. It sent chilled shudders throughout her entire body. Chuck's grip on her arm tensed dramatically. Miraculously, he found it in himself to move his grip to just her hand. If they were going to overcome the evil Jack Bass, they couldn't look like frightened jackrabbits about to pounce.

The thick silence following seemed to annoy Jack. He released his grip on Elizabeth's delicate hand and slipped his hands into his pockets.

"I'm sure you know exactly why I brought you here."

"You want the company…and my inheritance," Chuck spat before Jack could get it out of his mouth. Blair looked disgusted. Jack's lips had curved up into the devil's grin as he held up a hand to briefly silence his nephew.

"I don't want your money, Chuck. I have enough of that, thanks to my own extremely good business skills and the partial generosity Bart showed towards me. Or maybe it was our parents'…" he pondered, seeming to really be interested in the matter. Then he shrugged and the contemplative hopeful image shattered.

"You're right though," he continued. "I do want the _whole_ Bass Company, and I know exactly what to do to get it, should you prove to be difficult."

Elizabeth suddenly looked a little uneasy, but no one seemed to take note. She was very subtle in her deepest emotions – an _excellent_ actress. Chuck scoffed, breaking her trance into reality.

"You said you don't want my money, and you've already had my girlfriend and apparently my mother as well." He did not pause to show how those facts affected him. "What else could you possibly do to me?"

Jack took one slow step towards him and continued to smile, peering down into the narrowed hazel-brown eyes staring back at him in disbelief and confusion, a little overconfidence too.

"I've been informed, through various reliable sources, that you've just invested all your shares in a hotel all your own."

Chuck's face paled, but he forced himself to hold his ground. Unconsciously, he released Blair's hand and let his own dangle by his side, completely numb. Jack took note of the transition and shifted slightly.

"I may have _had_ your girlfriend." He reached out to stroke the underside of her cheek and chin. Blair recoiled instantly. Jack watched her intently with a sick, seductive smile on his face. "But that doesn't mean I can't have her again." He turned his head back towards Chuck. "If force is necessary, so be it."

Blair swallowed hard. She felt as if she was melting, being swallowed alive by the floor beneath her feet. She had been stupid before when she'd slept with Jack, and she hated him for what he did to Chuck following the incident. But the anger nearly all evaporated into pure fear at the thought of Jack actually forcing himself onto her. She forced the word _rape_ to remain as far away from her central thoughts as possible.

"You wouldn't," Chuck said, his voice as low and as cold as night. Jack just smiled.

"I would actually." He turned around and picked a newspaper up off his desk and brought it back so they could all see the large picture and long article accompanying it. Chuck and Blair nearly gaped at the sight. "And, according to the front page of this New Yorker newspaper, I would get away with it."

Chuck's eyes flickered to his uncle's. "This isn't true. You just threatened to rape Blair."

"Ah yes." Jack smirked. "But, according to the most recent scandal in New York involving Bass, Co., you are being sued for sexual harassment on more than one occasion, and with some very attractive employees. Who would suspect dear, innocent, Uncle Jack on the other side of the world when the new heir to the Bass Empire has created such a scandal by just," he paused, "well, to put it plainly, being himself…in public."

The words set Chuck off and he nearly lunged at Jack, preparing to deck him just as powerfully as he had the year before when he'd attempted to rape Lily. He'd been furious at the attempt. He did not think he could control himself if he dared to force himself on Blair. Then he _would_ have a reason to be deprived of the company.

"Lily has it," Chuck said, grasping at straws as firmly as he could. It was as if Jack hadn't even heard him. He took the newspaper back to his desk and set it down.

"I propose you hand over Bass Industries, persuade Lily as you must, and I won't touch your hotel, your mother, or…" his eyes moved to Blair again and lingered there. He looked back at Chuck who was somehow keeping his temper in check. "your lovely _girlfriend_."

Chuck was in no mood to bargain in the least. "What makes you think you can do any of this?"

Jack raised his eyebrows, amused. "You don't think those sexual harassment lawsuits came out of thin air, did you?"

Chuck's lips parted, fearing the worst but forcing himself not to think too quickly. It would not be good if he overwhelmed himself with possibilities that might not even be on his uncle's to-do list.

"There are plenty more where those came from," Jack assured him. "If you don't hand over the company, I will not only take Blair by _force_, but your hotel and your reputation will have gone up in flames before you even board the plane for your journey home."

…

A/N: *gasp!* Review! !


	10. Mrs Bass

A/N: Sorry for the very late update, but I've honestly been least inspired to write this fic. Heh. It's over halfway done though, and I am writing it now. =) Please review.

*I own nothing. (Some of the characters in _Bass Inc_ that I mention are either from the show or from one of _Catheryne_'s stories (_Mr. & Mrs. Bass_, I'm pretty sure). But I still don't own them regardless. XD) No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.10—Mrs. Bass**

"Mr. Farrar, please try to see this from my point of view." The man crossed her arms across his chest, unimpressed with Lily Bass's plea. "Charles is my son, by every meaning of the word. This lawsuit does not only affect this company. It affects him as well. Even if he is not directly in control of Bass Inc, he is somewhat of an advertisement for it. Surely, you must all know that these accusations are not true, and merely a set-up."

Several men at the table glanced at each other dubiously. One of them leaned forward on the shining mahogany and intently looked up at her.

"I think your sentiments for the young Mr. Bass are clouding your judgment."

Lily's lips pursed fiercely. "I have run this company quite successfully, if you will recall, since the death of the late Mr. Bass, my husband. Surely, you can trust me to make the right decision here."

"What exactly do you propose?" Farrar asked her, sounding quite exhausted. He put a hand to his forehead and pressed against it in an attempt to release some tension.

Lily cleared her throat. "I propose you deal with this law suit. Surely, Bass Inc. has more than enough brilliant lawyers to win the case."

"It isn't just one lawsuit that is being pushed against us anymore, Mrs. Bass. It's several."

Her eyebrows furrowed, confused. "What are you talking about? I know there were other supposed accusations, but they seemed minor since they were never spoken of in detail," she said defiantly, folding her arms across her stomach.

"Before you arrived here this morning and demanded an urgent meeting to all who were around to participate, three more accusations were called in."

"Whatever for?" she demanded. "This is an upstanding business. Even Bart's scandalous activities didn't cause as much as scandal as we're now getting."

"For one – a conservative, Christian group, that has very recently come into some sufficient money of its own and is growing in its publicity, mainly through protests, called in once they caught wind of your stepson's supposed sexual harassment throughout the company. They refuse to believe otherwise, and with Charles out of the country, it is almost impossible to deny the claims, especially since he is in the exact area in the world where these supposed _rapes_ were taken place."

"It's in the media _already_?" she asked, aghast as she slowly took her seat back at the head of the table. Her brief hot-headed temper had caused her to rise to her feet in an effort to look in control, but the revelation of how everything was in unfurling, and all in a downward plunge, caused her to believe it in her best interest to sit down.

"We tried to keep it quiet," Pete Holmberg, the man closest to her on the left said, "but there's always an especially nosy and clever reporter that manages to gain the information. Newspapers are already selling like wildfire, detailing all the events of the supposed harassment."

"Good Lord." Her eyes widened at the information. The longer she let it sink in, the more she feared the situation could never be saved. _How would she be able to rescue Charles and Blair from Jack's clutches if she was just barely holding Bass Inc. together?_

"What do you suggest?" she finally asked, her eyes searching out for Farrar's. He smiled contently at her relenting. The rest of the men at the table seemed surprised by the action, but waited for the inevitable decision Farrar would make.

"There is more than enough money open for your taking. Use it and do whatever means necessary, that will not damage the company if it is found out, to track down your stepson and bring him back to New York City, so we may speak with him ourselves and discuss the proper course of action. But, do not leave the country. Despite of the rest of us on the board being here to hold down the fort, you are the head of Bass Industries, and nothing can be decided on without your final approval. That does not leave us with much room to do _anything_ in your absence, and especially not when things are so critical."

Lily watched him steadily, trying her best to run through the options in her head that were quickly wearing thin. She didn't know what in the world she could do with just a pile of money to get Chuck home, but she knew she wasn't going to get that answer trying to argue away her point as a mother, and wife of the late Mr. Bass, in front of nearly twenty businessmen, very sure of themselves and their purpose on this board. She nodded once. Farrar smiled and pulled out some papers – the next order in business.

Outside the conference room, Nate and Serena sat on a leather loveseat, waiting for the results of Lily's so quickly prepared presentation of the dilemma at hand. Serena stared hard at the closed mahogany doors and concentrated fiercely on the murmurings of voices just beyond them inside.

"How do you think it's going?" she asked, not turning her face away for a second. Nate shrugged.

"I don't know. We should probably just wait till she comes out and tells us what happens."

Serena turned around in her seat and exhaled loudly. "I have a feeling my mom's not going to be able to fix things by requesting a search and rescue for Chuck."

Nate raised his eyebrows and turned to her. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," she continued on, "I think we're going to have to figure out how to get them ourselves." Nate scoffed, on the verge of laughing until he saw her very serious face looking back at him.

"You can't be serious."

She raised her eyebrows in an effort to show him that she was indeed serious, but she wasn't exactly sure what to do with her conviction. He sighed and shook his head.

"We're not experienced in P.I.s, Serena. We already discussed our incapability to do anything before we came here an hour ago. That's why Lily held the meeting to begin with," he reasoned out. As if a light bulb had come on, Serena suddenly jumped and turned to face him in their seat.

"What?" he asked, half-excited at her adorable expression. Though, soon after it fell. His followed the action. "_What_?" he asked again, this time sounding as if he dreaded her very thoughts on the matter of her briefly bubbled excitement.

"Okay, you're not going to like this, but…"

"No," he said, before she could finish. He didn't even need her to finish it. Surprisingly, his intuition on all things Serena Van der Woodsen had kicked in.

"He could help, Nate. I don't know anyone else who could," she pleaded.

"_No_, Serena. You just broke up with him a few months ago. He'd only be doing it as a favor to you, and only to get closer," he said, very sure of himself, his blue eyes dark as they looked into hers.

"Not necessarily. We didn't exactly part ways on good terms. There's a chance he won't even accept the offer."

He scoffed. "You wouldn't even suggest Carter if you didn't think he'd agree to it." Her big blue eyes pleaded with him. He sighed and slouched in his chair. "_Fine_," he consented, drawing out the word. Serena's arms wrapping around his neck in a squeal of excitement did not make him feel any better, regardless of how Carter's help _might_ serve in aiding Chuck and Blair.

"You won't regret it, Nate. I promise." She snuggled against him, though clearly still a little restless from her resurrected enthusiasm. He blew his bangs out of his eyes and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer. _He was 100% sure she was 100% wrong._

…

Chuck and Blair sat calm and composed on chairs in the room Jack had left them in. He'd reportedly left to do business with other clients but that did not encourage them any. They knew he'd be back; and when he did, they'd need to have an answer ready – more like a submission to his threat. Blair shuddered at the thought of having to touch him so intimately again. Chuck's fingers slid in between hers, resting on the arm of her chair. Shocked, she nearly jumped. She looked up at him. He was smiling softly. She couldn't understand it, but she relaxed some and he brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it.

"I love you," he whispered, absentmindedly tracing lines on her ring finger.

Her smile was weak but it did not waver. Still, just how scared she was began to appear all over her face. "What are we going to do?" she asked on a shaky sigh.

Chuck didn't want to tell her he didn't know. He wanted to be her hero, but this was such new territory for both of them. They could hardly use their scheming to escape. Jack was one of the few people who could actually outmaneuver them, at least for the most part. And this time, she was sure they would leave the situation more traumatized than they'd been before.

Before he could answer the question, the two turned their heads to the sound of heels coming down the hall towards them. They weren't prisoners. The door wasn't locked. But it still felt like they were headed to their execution. Any unplanned move was a deadly one, and even the planned ones were not necessarily safe. They were out of their element.

The door opened, and in walked Chuck's supposed birth mother, Elizabeth Fisher. Chuck's eyes immediately narrowed. Gone also was the vulnerability in Blair's eyes. Their guards were back up. Despite how the auburn had shined on the woman's hair as she stood beside Jack, the two young brunettes sitting across from her were not threatened in the least by her presence.

"Are you going to tell me it's for my own good?" Chuck spat.

Elizabeth closed her eyes in what could have been a cross between annoyance and anguish. She had known it wouldn't be easy, agreeing to Jack's terms, but she'd hardly had a choice in the matter. He'd demanded her help, and family was family, despite what a nuisance he'd always been. By the time she learned the details of his little scheme, she was in too deep. Some part of her hoped there would be a way out of this, for all of them. Jack was a scoundrel that should never be allowed to win; she knew that better than anyone.

"Your uncle and I are lovers," she said coolly, ignoring Chuck's question. Chuck scoffed and turned his head away, shaking it in disbelief.

"We noticed." Blair blinked, _bitch_ written all over her face. Elizabeth had first recognized it on her that first night when Chuck had succeeded in catching up with her. It had been softer that time though. Now it was fierce – ready for battle. A long silence ensued.

"I advise you comply with Jack's request," she said politely. Chuck turned his head back to her, his hazel brown eyes a deadly glare. Blair scoffed, almost laughed.

"_Request_?" she asked, aghast at the woman's apparent stupidity.

"You both are so young," she continued. "Don't let him use you like this," she said, looking more concerned than any mother ever should. They didn't buy it for a minute. Chuck straightened in his seat and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Do you really think he loves you?" He paused, looking over her face, searching for a weakness. "He's using you just as much as he's trying to use us." Elizabeth did not falter.

"I know it's hard for you to understand…" she trailed off, grappling for the right words to make them see from her point of view. Through some twisted way, she was letting her acting skills falter so that they could see her predicament. Neither seemed to catch onto the extremely subtle hints. She did not blame them, but she was still a little desperate for their cooperation.

"Just ask him if he loves you. Ask him which he'd rather have: Bass Inc. or you. I can tell you right now it won't be you," Chuck said, venom heavy in his voice. Elizabeth smiled wryly at him.

"You've definitely got your father in you," she remarked. Chuck shook his head and turned away, obviously having come to the conclusion that she would not be listening to him. "But," she stood to her feet, now finding the chair she'd fallen into mid-conversation incredibly hard beneath her. "I would still heed your uncle's words. After all, if it hadn't been through Jack's clever protection, you'd be _his_ son instead of Bart's." She shrugged, ignoring the now wide-eyed figures still sitting before her. She looked back once more before leaving the room entirely, an interested gaze sitting on Chuck's form. "You do have your uncle's fiery spirit though." Her eyes glinted in the sunlight shining through the window. There was almost relief, when she shut the door behind her and Chuck and Blair were finally once again left alone.

Except on the other side of the door, where Evelyn finally broke down, and cried.

_"Tell me you love me," he demanded urgently against her ear._

_ "No," she ground out, eager to get out of his clutches._

_ "But you do." He smirked. She could feel it pressing against her cheek._

_ "No, I don't," she insisted. "I never have, and I never will."_

_ "But you love your son," he told her._

_ "What?" she croaked._

_ "Don't act so innocent, Evelyn. I know why you ran away from home, from Bart, your precious love," he mocked. She spun around in his arms and glared, giving him the opportunity to kiss her, but miraculously he did not even make an attempt. It shocked her, but only in hindsight. _

_ "What do you want, Jack?" she growled. He raised an eyebrow, clearly finding her worded exertion very sexy and appealing. It was the last thing she wanted. It would not help the situation at all._

_ "You know the answer to that."_

_ "Well, you won't get it," she said defiantly, stealing herself away from his clutches. She started walking away from him, only to turn back one last time. "You have no hold on me, Jack Bass. None. Things went wrong between Bart and I. That's why we broke up. I came out here to start over, and as you can see, I'm far from pregnant."_

_ She stalked off into the night. _

_ "That's not what my P.I. says," he whispered into the darkness._

She should have known Jack would find her, and make a bargain she couldn't refuse. She never liked him as more than an acquaintance, or maybe a friend at the very beginning, but he had always hated his brother – her lover, and for that she had to give up everything.

…

A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Please review! ;p


	11. Means of Escape

A/N: Twice in one week? Looks that way. ;) Review. Pretty please. *bats eyelashes*

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.11—Means of Escape**

To say that Nate was uncomfortable with the situation would be a serious understatement. He couldn't think of a better source, other than the police, who probably wouldn't cooperate like they'd need them to, to help in this particular dilemma, but he certainly didn't like that they'd resorted to using Carter Baizen. On top of it, Serena – _his_ girlfriend – had insisted on talking to Carter _alone_ while her boyfriend waited by _himself_, unable to see how the nemesis of practically all of them was eyeing his _girlfriend_. Nate wasn't stupid. Despite the fact that Carter had been the one to sever the ties between himself and Serena, he knew he still had eyes for her. Serena had been heartbroken when he'd left, and he had hardly been her knight in shining armor then. More like an adversary.

Now, here he was, back in her life. If Carter wanted her back, he definitely held the upper hand, at least at the moment. The fact that Serena had sought him out probably stroked his ego even further. Nate tried not to think about what they might be doing in there, if Carter was hitting on her, sweet-talking her, or actually listening to the issue she'd called him in to help them with. If Nate had any luck at all, Carter would still be pissed at Serena for trying to save him, and refuse to help. Going off of what he knew of the jackass, that would be anything but the case. Carter didn't hold grudges, not for that long. It'd been _months_, and Serena had been the only girl that he'd ever been stuck on. It was extremely unlucky that he wouldn't have forgiven her by now, even if in reality there had not been much to forgive. She'd only been trying to help.

Nate and Chuck held grudges. Maybe not long enough to be called unhealthy, but with enough time to cause a sufficient amount of bitterness. They still hadn't forgiven Carter for how he'd cheated Nate out in that high stakes poker game during junior year. Nate pondered the possibility that the reason Carter didn't really hold grudges was because he was more mature them; older, and thus, more mature. He almost laughed at the notion, deciding that he didn't hold obvious grudges because he just didn't care. He was too flippant, and too confident in his own wealth and abilities to really get involved with small irritancies. Except with Serena. Nate saw how he acted around her. He didn't know how far back their connection ran, not as far back as _his_ connection ran with her, he was sure, but far back enough to have her call him for help. It did not make him feel any better.

Behind closed doors, Serena was growing agitated. She had sat there and watched Carter contemplate the proposition she'd just given him for the last five minutes. There not seem to be any changes in his facial expression or distinct movements to be determined as something significant in his body language. He just sat there across from her and stared at the floor.

"Carter?" she prompted, hoping she did not sound nervous. He looked up at her and smiled. He rose to his feet and walked the short distance towards her.

"And what will I get in exchange for my brilliant strategic mind?" He cocked an eyebrow.

"I have a boyfriend," she said quickly, before even stopping to think.

She had not even taken into consideration that Carter might be a decent human being who just wanted a favor in exchange. She had jumped right to the conclusion that he wanted her back, even if just for a one-night stand. She had put up her defenses from the second she called him to invite him over. The subject was weighing heavily on her mind. She had convinced herself that after several months and more than one guy to devote her affections to, she was over him. But neither of them had really broken her heart. Carter had done that. She didn't want to admit to herself, let alone him, that she might not be over him. She just wanted him to help her in getting Chuck and Blair back safely, out of Jack's clutches, and then she wanted to be rid of him. If she wasn't over him, she could plunge into the deep blue depth's of Nate's eyes when he was gone and just lose herself in them. She could fall in love with him so deeply that feelings for Carter would seem impossible. If she was already over Carter, then nothing would be difficult to accomplish. Everything would be alright. She didn't want to analyze the situation.

He cracked a grin. "I'm aware of that, beautiful." He tucked a tendril of her long, blonde hair behind her ear. "It does not particularly make me happy, but it's a fact I'm going to have to live with." His sparkling eyes told her he was not planning on 'living with it', but she decided to ignore whatever he might be planning. She had more _important_ things to think about.

"Okay, so what do you want?" she asked, now impatient as she crossed her arms across her chest. His closed lips smiled at her.

"Can I call a raincheck on it? Decide later?" he asked nonchalantly. Her jaw dropped, but she masked it quickly by scrutinizing him intensely for a brief moment, and then, seeming to give up, her shoulders slumped.

"I'm not sleeping with you," she said pointedly, her eyes widened enough to make a point. Carter up his hands in mock-defense.

"I surrender," he said heartily, and moved past her. He paused at the door and looked back at her. She seemed extremely wary of his intentions. He sensed his charming mood was doing nothing to win her over.

"For you, sweetheart, I will find my nemesis and his lover halfway around the world. You won't even have to play gold digger to motivate my spirits." He chuckled, opening the door halfway. He sensed how Nate shifted just outside the room in his chair. For some reason, the whole situation amused him greatly. He opened the door all the way and walked out, glancing at Nate as he headed for the exit. "But, like I said, everything comes with a price." He winked at her before the elevator doors closed behind him.

"Devil incarnate," Nate muttered, glaring still at the departed vision of Carter Baizen in the elevator. Serena sighed and ran a hand through her hair. She could have sworn that she was shaking.

"I thought that was Chuck," she said lightly.

"This was not a good idea, Serena," he said, finally turning to look at her. Very suddenly, Serena got defensive.

"Carter's the best there is, Nate. You've got to stop thinking he's only doing this to get close to me. I already drew the lines in this business deal, and those weren't his motivations the first time I went to him for help."

Nate's mind was spinning with everything she'd said, but one thing in particular stuck out. His brows furrowed and Serena knew she should have kept her mouth shut. "The _first_—?"

She held up a hand to silence him and closed her eyes in frustration. "Nevermind. Just…" she sighed. "Trust me, okay?" He said nothing for a long while and then silently nodded when he couldn't find anything good to say. Serena seemed incredibly relieved by his response. She kissed him lightly and walked into the kitchen for a tall glass of ice water.

A beat later her phone buzzed. It was Carter; he'd conveniently forgotten to tell her when they'd meet up to discuss the details of how to put a soon to be concocted plan into action. He said he'd call her when he'd gotten a few things together. Serena did not share everything he'd said to her boyfriend. The blonde boy sunk into a chair at the obvious knowledge of that, and groaned, drinking down Serena's full glass of water when she moved around the counter to finish her conversation with Carter.

…

It had been the first time during the entire project that she'd been unable to keep her head held high and her wit in check. Everything had crashed around her when she'd lied to her biological son straight to his face. The girl that had bravely requested the truth from her almost a month prior was now spitting in her face like she was the scum of the earth. Elizabeth didn't blame her, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. Nothing had hurt her in a long time. Being caught up in Jack's evil plot – most of which had just been being "trapped" in his office with adjoining bedroom – was just an annoyance at best. She hadn't planned on really getting to know Chuck. Though, maybe she had and was just trying to protect him by fleeing. All the moments in those first couple weeks of her son trying to contact her had kept her completely on edge. She should have been more subtle at the cemetery, she'd scolded herself countless times afterwards. It didn't matter now though. The past was too painful. Getting out of New York was the only way she thought could remain stable. There were too many memories back there. Jack knew that all too well. He caught her arriving in London and made her a deal. It was a scheme she should have recognized from the very beginning, but she'd just barely escaped from re-encountering her past. She hadn't had a clear mind. So, she had signed the contract making her a business partner at _Bass Australia_.

It had seemed harmless at the time. She didn't have a real interesting job, and it was an excuse to get away and _stay_ away. The contract also bound her to Australia for at least the first six months. She wasn't fond of Jack, but Australia was beautiful and it was a reason to keep her from returning to New York. She didn't have any other family. Having to deal with her late husband's little brother and his constant flirting ways towards her would be annoying, but tolerable. She could rebuild again, become Elizabeth Fisher like she'd been trying to for the last eighteen and a half years. If she got sick of being a business partner to one of the richest men in the world, she could always leave after those six months were through. Two days after she'd accepted the proposal, Jack had sprung on her his deceptive plan of luring Chuck in by using her as bait, making her look like a prisoner, and then forcing him to hand over the whole Bass Empire. The fine print of the contract – finer than she'd ever seen – spoke of restraining her to any particular part of the business' base if there was any threat of breaking the contract. It had been shown to her when she'd threatened to leave. Despite her fear of the past, she would not willingly put her son in danger. Now, however, she didn't have a choice. She had willingly signed the agreement, blinded by her desperation and fear of how close she had come to facing the shadows from her past that seemed to follow her even in the dark. She could not sue Jack for kidnapping because of her signature, and she could not even accuse him of sexual harassment. He had never tried to force himself on her, not even as a reckless sixteen year old with raging hormones. Seduction was his weapon of choice, not force. Even when he failed at something he had prepared to perfection, his temper did not rise. He'd never harmed her once. She hardly believed his tale of his almost raping the most recent Mrs. Bass – though she had now married again—just because she had never seen a violent side to him in the past. She didn't crack under pressure, but something in his voice was different when he told her about that experience. It was something she didn't like, but it didn't bother her unless she thought on it directly and for awhile.

But she hadn't been thinking about the attempted rape Jack might have done back in New York when she'd collapsed crying in the hallway outside the room containing her biological son and possible future daughter-in-law. She'd gotten used to lying to Jack, so it wasn't the act alone that had sent her over the edge. It was the look in her son's eyes. It was as if Bart was back from the dead staring her in the face and forcing her out of his life just like he'd done years earlier, despite on what grounds they had been. This time she was in the fault. She had lied directly to her son, and about something that couldn't have been farther from the truth. It was worse than what she'd experienced in New York. _She should've never come back to New York…_

"Tell me again how it could have been worse if I had left Australia before Chuck got here," Elizabeth said coldly, walking as elegantly as ever into Jack's breezy office. The sun shone through in streaks through the glass door. The screen was wide open to the wind, and a warm, balmy breeze enveloped both Jack and Elizabeth when she waltzed through the open door to his office.

Jack looked up from his work to look at her. The devious glint was in his eyes. She wasn't surprised. She'd hardly seen him not on top of his game. There had been a few times in his youth where she'd hurt him by blatantly telling him she hated him or that no one could ever love him because he was so obnoxious, and eventually, soulless. But it wasn't every time he bought into it. She'd hardly meant the truly hurtful things. She just wasn't born to be a bully.

"What is it, Evee? Just want me to get it over with?"

Her hands clenched tightly on the fringe of her dress. Jack looked at the motion in amusement. _He got too much amusement from using that nickname_, she thought.

"Don't you dare think of hurting that girl." Her face hardened. His expression did not wane. "Tell me," she demanded. He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms across his chest.

"Nothing," he said. She stared hard at him, looking for the lie. She could find none. "I was bluffing."

"You've got men. I observed every single meeting you held."

"All they're getting is money when I get all of Bass Industries," he said flatly.

"You've got hit men."

"Just as a threat so my nephew and his lovely girlfriend don't try to bolt."

She blinked. She didn't think that could possibly be all there was to it, but she wasn't about to admit her uncertainty by asking another question.

"And me?"

He leaned forward in his seat and appeared to get suddenly serious.

"I love you."

She scoffed, unable to help herself. But before she could see his response or whatever words he would use to try to buy her over – or at least irritate her further; perhaps another attempt to scare her, an official looking man walked through the door. It felt like an unnatural wind had entered the room, determined to enfold us in its nasty unseen substance. Jack turned his head to address him.

"What is it, Michael?"

"Your nephew has tried to escape, Mr. Bass."

Jack looked completely calm, not jolted in the least. "You've caught him, I gather."

"Yes." He nodded. "He's in the lobby."

….

Chuck didn't look at his uncle. He refused to give him the pleasure of failure upon his face. He was no doubt smiling, or at least his eyebrows would be raised in amusement. In hindsight, he realized it was not the smartest plan he had ever concocted. The news Elizabeth had delivered to them had affected them more than they'd expected, and with that heavy on their minds, a successful escape plan was unlikely to come into place.

"So," Jack finally spoke, eyeing the two teenagers from head to toe. "You checked the hallways, the majority of the upper rooms, and found the security cameras of everywhere inside the building. It was all clear, so you made a run for it."

Chuck looked up slowly, masking his shame well. Blair had held her glare firmly in place since they'd been stopped just outside the building. Soon after, they'd been led into a conference room on the first floor. She'd glared with an almost eerie perfection at whoever held them captive there. In her eyes, Jack was no different. At least, that was what appeared on her face. She imagined he admired her for it. That only made her angrier. He had admired her persistence in finding his nephew when she had slept with him on New Year's Eve the year before.

"Your mistake though, clearly," Jack took a step towards them, gesturing about almost as casually as a politician, "was finding the security cameras watching the outside perimeter of the building." He smiled smugly. Blair's eyes narrowed. Silence ensued, and finally Jack sighed, making to sound testy, though only an idiot would have guessed he was actually upset.

"Robert," he called to one of the men behind him. The man immediately walked towards him, inclining his head in question of what he desired. "Guide these two lovely individuals to the kitchen upstairs." He turned his gaze to Chuck and Blair, knowing their inner thoughts as Upper East Siders, even if their faces did not show it. "There's an adjoining room with an eating area where the two of you can enjoy your lunch. Don't worry. It's not hospital food."

The two brunettes were ushered to the elevators before another word was exchanged. Jack turned around to a couple of the security men. He gave them a few whispered orders about keeping security tighter. Then, he turned around to see Elizabeth looking at him with some expression he simply couldn't decipher. It was possible she was mad at him for his blatant lies, or maybe she was still trying to decide whether he had lied or not. Perhaps, she had indeed fallen into the natural maternal duties she must have held at one point. Maybe she was thinking of Bart again and how things might have been different. That thought made him burn. He hated to think of his brother and the woman _he_ loved together.

"You don't know what real love is," she spat, walking straight up to him before heading towards the elevators after most of the service men and Chuck and Blair is. Her words jolted him out of his thoughts, but they were so close to the topic which he'd been thinking on, he wondered if she'd read his mind. It would not be the first time. If anyone knew him inside and out, it would be _Evee Bass_.

Both of the elevators' doors closed before Jack moved from his spot. Nobody remained in the room. When he finally moved out into the lobby, only the security men at the outside doors – standing both inside and out – could be seen. He wasn't over thinking his decision to mess with Chuck, to gain the Bass Empire he believed should have always been his to completion. It had been beyond disappointing to learn that Chuck, his then seventeen year old nephew, was to gain the majority shares of the entire Bass Company just by being the heir to the world renowned Bartholomew Bass. Jack had moved beyond the aggravating point in his life, and he would not falter now; not with this new plan in mind. It was foolproof. There was only one trophy he knew he could not achieve by the time the victory of claiming his rightful inheritance had come. His "foolproof plan" did not involve finally winning over Evee.

_"Evee?"_

_ She stilled, and instantly he knew it was her. He would recognize those silky auburn locks anyways, even if they had now been cut from halfway down her back to just beneath her ears. She was fashionably dressed as usual, but she was without his brother on her arm. He did not care to know why that was. He was just glad there was available space around her to be freely claimed by him._

_ Though she did not speak, she continued to stand there as if she had not heard them. He looked at the corner where she stood and came to the conclusion that she was waiting for the city bus. The city bus? In London? He walked up to her and tapped her on the shoulder. She turned towards him._

_ "May I help you?" she asked politely, innocently. He smirked._

_ "Evee." She gave him a blank stare. "It's me," he said, genuinely concerned that she might not recognize him even after just six months when she'd left New York to "travel the world". He'd expected she take his brother with her. He must have missed the memo, because he sunk into depression and vacated the premises when his assumption was drilled into him by the silence of his own mind._

_ "Jack," he said, to make it clearer. She looked at him, confused. But he saw the brief recognition flash before her eyes. He wondered if it'd been there long and he'd just been too distracted by her luxurious voice. He sighed, coming to the conclusion of just why she had decided to ignore him._

_ "Evelyn."_

_ She blinked, then smiled slowly. "My name is Elizabeth now."_

_ He raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Elizabeth?"_

_ "Yes," she said, sounding very proud in the decision she'd obviously made on her own after great thought and contemplation. He smiled a bit, finding the very sound of it and the facial expression that accompanied it absolutely adorable. "Elizabeth Fisher."_

_ "Ah," he said, holding back laughter, "I didn't know people changed their names when they traveled the world." She smiled icily back at him. "Where is my brother? Trying to call a limo before you hop onto the city bus and humiliate him completely?"_

_ She looked stunned by his comment. It was not unlike something he would normally say. He wondered what the expression was for. "You don't know?" she asked, pleasantly surprised. His brows narrowed faintly. He did not want to be reminded of her engagement to his brother._

_ She shook her head, laughing a little. "Bart isn't with me. We broke off our engagement."_

_ His jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "What?" he asked, disbelief clear in his voice. She sighed airily, sounding perfectly content. _

_ "H-How? W-Why?" He could not seem to get a single coherent thought out._

_ "It was nice seeing you, Jack," she said cheerily, pushing her purse strap farther up over her shoulder as the bus came to a stop. "We should get together sometime." She winked._

_ It took him a full ten minutes to recover from what she had told him. She had not only broken off the tie she'd held with his brother – he was sure she'd done it, since she seemed almost happy about it – but she'd invited him on a, dare he call it, date? He was beyond blown away. And, though he'd never really found much use for P.I.s in the past, he pulled out his phone and found the number of his brother's P.I. on his phone. There had to be a legitimate reason Evelyn had broken things off with his brother. The last time he'd seen them, and her privately too, they'd both seemed so completely in love – as usual. That was only six months ago. He had to know what had happened. If he actually finally had a chance with the girl of his dreams, he had to make sure what the odds were for success. He would win, for sure, but he had to know what obstacles stood in his path._

….

A/N: So long. I hope you enjoyed. Please review. =) I'm almost having more fun writing Evelyn/Elizabeth & Jack's story more than the general SL! XD GWK should be updated next, though I was vaguely inspired for a CaS oneshot this afternoon…heheh.


	12. Every Bass

A/N: The reviews for this story are now essentially nonexistent, but I really hope that'll change because I really like this story. I think it has a unique twist to the whole "the identity of Chuck's mother" SL from the show. Anyways, I've had little motivation to write lately, so I put up a poll & this was one of the ones voted on. With any luck I'll finish this fic in the next month, because then I'll have had it done within a year after I started it. XD

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

….

**Ch.12—Every Bass **

She followed the sound of his voice and discovered him in the adjoining room, only able to enter from the kitchen. She was cautious as she approached the free doorway. There was no sign of Blair and she could not hear her voice. A dreadful chill shivered through her like ice. The thoughts that swept through her were probably not as impossible as she would have liked.

"Where's Blair?" she asked nonetheless. Chuck stopped pacing. The room was large but it was clear he'd exercised every possible location in finding where his girlfriend might have been. The windows were of slanted glass. He couldn't see out of them. More chills ripped through Elizabeth when she saw his narrowed gaze and slowly walked towards her – a man on a mission, deadly, able to kill just by looking at you. _Just like Bart._

"You tell me," he said roughly. He halted on his side of the threshold, never losing her gaze. His hazel-brown eyes echoed her own but with far more intensity.

"I-I don't understand," she managed, tilting her head to the side in confusion. Chuck scoffed.

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about." The venom in his face, his eyes, his very demeanor intensified somehow. For a nineteen year old he looked very dangerous and very not like a boy. She'd seen a hint of this side of him in New York, but now it was even fiercer. She wondered if he'd ever been just a child.

He took a deep breath and pursed his lips together tightly, his eyes squeezed shut. It seemed he was trying to draw out some extra dose of patience. _Just like Bart_. Acting and then thinking. Well, at least that was how she knew him initially. He'd been reckless, beneath that prim and proper façade. Building greatness out of what he called poverty – middle class – had driven him too many things. He'd lost "unnecessary" sentiments along the way.

"For the sake of argument, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt," he said, clearly keeping his temper in check. Her head tilted back to its straight-up position. Her eyes twitched once in curiosity. "Your _lover's_," he spat; she twitched, "security guards led both Blair and I up to the kitchen. She was right behind me. When I looked behind me to ask the men what exactly we were supposed to consume, she was gone. So were the men. Oh, except for the one refusing to let me exit even the kitchen should I need to use the _facilities_." He glared.

She felt her heart drop to the pit of her stomach. The pain in his words overwhelmed her, despite how bitter and spiteful and mocking he was towards her. This girl meant the world to him. Elizabeth felt shivers cover her skin in tiny goosebumps at the realization. Once she'd known what that felt like, when she was young, his age. She hadn't been reckless, however subtly like Bart had been, but she'd been crazy in love. It'd been the death of her. She could see Bart very clearly in their son, but she could see herself too – heartbroken over everything.

She swallowed hard and crossed the threshold. Chuck had walked back into the room and he was pacing again, albeit slower. He was not an idiot. There were men right outside the kitchen doorway that would stop him if he tried to search the building for Blair. It took very clever planning and outrageous courage to attempt another escape so soon after the first one failed. Now his hands were running through his hair, gripping at the roots, his face going bright red and then death-pale-white with how much agony she was in.

"Listen…" she began gently, reaching out to him though he was on the far side of the room. He stopped again and looked at her just as fiercely as before. He started charging towards her and stopped just a few feet away.

"_What?_" he ground out in a whisper when she'd expected him to shout. She was taken aback a little but she did not waver. She stood her ground, just like she had done every time before. Her little spell in the hallway was an exception and it was not to be repeated.

"What in the world could you _possibly_ have to say to me? Even if you didn't know anything I just told you, what is there that you can offer me? Are you going to tell me I have a long lost cousin-slash-brother out there that you'd like to introduce me to?" His eyes burned.

Every instinct in her told her to just tell him that she was his mother, and so he should have to listen to her, heed her advice. But she knew she had no right whatsoever to tell that to him. The woman she'd spoken to on the phone before, she'd had that right. But her? No. She hadn't been a mother to him a single day in his life, except by blood, and that didn't mean anything in the circumstances they were in. She cleared her throat and went for a different approach. Taking a single step towards him, she somehow managed to not reach out and touch him. There was an overwhelming urge in her to protect and comfort him suddenly. It was a feeling she hadn't felt in a long time, at least not this strongly. Her lips parted, throat going dry for a moment.

"I can help you escape," she said. "I know a way that won't get you caught. I swear, you can trust me now."

He ripped his arm away from the gentle grasp her soft hand had made around it. He scoffed again, just like before, in disbelief. "I can never trust you," he spat in a deadly whisper. But his eyes softened some. She saw the hurt in them, and the regret. "I wish I'd never gone searching for you. You were better as the dead woman who managed to conceive me, even if I felt guilty for causing your supposed death every single day since my father told me about it, drilled into my brain. All that guilt and suffering was better than this."

The words burned her, but she did not stop him as he turned away and walked in the other direction.

"Chuck, please—"

He turned back around her in a flash and a breath got caught in her throat at the sight of his vicious eyes so intent on murdering any intention she had on making him do something he had not already thought of himself. He stalked towards her so fast that she thought he would not stop and ram right into her if she did not make herself disappear. So, she walked backwards until she was all the way in the kitchen, nearly tripping over her heels as she did so. He stopped at the threshold and gripped his hand firmly on the doorjamb until his fingers turned white.

"You don't get to call my Chuck. You don't have that right," he snapped. His lips were pursed together tightly as if he was trying not to bite his skin and make himself bleed. His eyes were turned away. She waited, somehow knowing he would say more to her. Finally he looked at her again, his eyes very intent. "I'm not leaving without her," he said, his voice dangerously low. She blinked, trying to come back with a quick successful response. "So, unless you can somehow manage that feat, leave me the hell alone."

He slammed the door in her face and she fell back a bit, jolted. She hadn't felt that shaken up in a long time. _Not since Bart_. Everything in Chuck reverberated her past. She had been stupid to so casually accept Jack's terms. That one signature had changed everything. It had forced her into the past she'd so fiercely been trying to forget.

It was obvious Chuck hadn't been thinking when he slammed the door in her face. What if the door locked? Then he'd never get out. He wouldn't have a single chance to save himself and the girl he loved. But Bass men were dramatic. She'd learned that the hard way too many times. She walked up to the door, quickly discovering that the door locked from the kitchen and that it had indeed locked when he'd slammed it in her face. She opened the door very quietly and unlocked it, keeping it ajar just so much that he wouldn't notice but he wouldn't be kept in seclusion there forever or until Jack decided to make him suffer further. She tried to keep her shivers from spreading again. She hadn't realized how quickly maternal instincts and strong feelings could revive themselves. They clawed at her so fiercely that she thought she would burst if she did not act upon them in some way. She took a breath and turned towards the exit out of the kitchen. The guard nodded once politely, but she ignored it. If Jack wouldn't let her leave, then she would find Blair. That was the only way she would get through to Chuck and become human again. She only hoped Jack was telling the truth when he'd said he wouldn't harm the girl. Chuck wouldn't be the only one broken now if he decided to change his mind.

…

"Quite a character, your boyfriend," Jack remarked, strolling into the room after the sound of Chuck slamming the door had resounded throughout the halls and swarmed around her. Jack closed the door behind him and smiled charmingly. She wondered how many women he'd lured to his bed with that smile. The fact that Chuck had used a similar technique in his womanizing days did not alter her beliefs in the slightest. Chuck was a changed man now, but Jack was still evil.

"What exactly do you _want_ from us? And why do I have to be in a separate _room_?"

She was annoyed, but he seemed to enjoy it and that was what irked her the most. His demeanor was an incredibly magnified version of Chuck's. Chuck would never go as far as Jack did in any means, but it was not reassuring to know that she could guess the general direction in which this conversation would go.

"I think you know what I want, Blair," he said, giving her a once-over, his eyes lingering on her legs and breasts. It only increased his enthusiasm when she saw there wasn't a single shred of fear on her face. She was amused at best, but moreso unimpressed.

"You've that already, Jack. Try again," she quipped.

He smirked and walked across the room slowly in her general direction. He passed where she sat on the wooden chair in front of the shining desk and kept walking till he reached the window. The sun shone down on streams across his face. He seemed to breathe it in as if it was air and he was tasting it. He looked to be in such deep contemplation for so many seconds she wondered if he'd fallen asleep standing up. It certainly wasn't a Bass behavior she'd come across before, but the devil incarnate had his ways of changing even the slightest details. She looked around the room and sighed at her surroundings. Jack opened one eye and turned to catch a glance of her over her shoulder.

"What's wrong, Blair? Homesick for your Chuck already?"

"This room is very distasteful," she said, her nose wrinkling in disgust as she took in the room and all it possessed. "I feel like I'm in a shed."

Jack turned all the way around and walked until he was directly in front of her, only three feet between them. He slipped his hands into his pockets and analyzed her with his hazel gaze. She decided right then that only _Chuck_ should be allowed to have hazel eyes. It was despicable on anyone else, even those not involved in the Bass con-artist production.

"What would you like me to add to it?" he asked curiously. "Is there some sort of decoration you have in mind?"

She blinked, certainly not expecting that. It was far too over-reaching for her even to discuss in one sitting, if she'd even care what the rooms of _Bass Australia_ looked like to begin with. The truth was that it looked exactly like a shed. Maybe it had never been properly made up and furnished, but that did not excuse the laziness that had been put into it. Unless, of course, it's purpose alone was just to torment people like her who insisted on classy abodes. The entire room was built on nothing but wood planks. The glass in the single narrow window appeared to be near cracking if one examined it close enough, but if one did not pay too much heed to the details, then it appeared to be of the strongest, thickest glass. It was deception, crafted by the source she gathered. Though, she knew of course that Jack would never submit himself to true manual labor. All the Bass men felt the same in that regard. Despite Bart's insistence on working your way to top instead of starting there, once he'd achieved the top position, he was not willing to falter back to his earlier days. He was a businessman to the end, as simultaneously reasonable and arrogant as they come.

The chair she sat on was the only one in the room, and the glossy finish of the wood on the desk behind her appeared very out of place because of it. The room was for storage, she concluded. But it did not feel like a room for storage. It felt like a shed. The two were different in her mind. She could not even begin to explain why.

Blair stood to her feet and took two steps toward him. He didn't move. "There is one thing in particular I wouldn't mind being rid of."

He smirked and closed the distance between them, his hand hovering over the curve of her hip.

"You're such a bitch, Blair; so sassy." He leaned his face closer towards her. Wariness was setting in as her nerves began to tense up. Something in her told her that this was no teasing seduction. Something was wrong. She felt herself panic, but she tried very much not to let it show.

She backed away and walked around him. "I don't know what you think—" But he caught her arm before she'd finished the half-circle where she might have been closer to the door.

"What _do_ I think I'm doing? Tell me, Blair," he dared her. Suddenly all wit was forgotten. There was no proof that he was going to do anything harmful to her, but she still felt very unnerved. His hand on her arm was tight. The door was closed, and it was just the two of them in a nearly empty storage room far from where anyone else might hear them. Even when Chuck had slammed the door it had been faint.

She swallowed hard but held his gaze. "Something you'll regret," she said very seriously. Slowly he smiled as if comprehension had dawned for the first time.

"I very much doubt that," he said, pulling her back around and pushing her into the chair she'd vacated. "I enjoyed it the last time."

She froze, every fiber in her being scared to death. The room suddenly felt like it was closing in on her. Her whole body was numb and his hazel eyes seemed to intensify into a bottomless pit of deadly black. Belatedly, she kicked at his shins, but he looked completely unaffected. Maybe he had cursed or forced his mouth shut so as not to cause too much noise. She couldn't tell though. He was gripping her hips and pressing his hands all over her, despite her attempts to push him away. One of his hands covered her mouth when she tried to scream. She got up and ran for the door when he started to unbuckle and unzip his pants, but she could not open the door when she tried to twist the knob. She turned to look at him slowly. He licked his lips and looked her up and down again. She could have sworn the lust in his eyes created a red haze, and was that the beginning drips of drool seeping out of the corners of his mouth? She shivered and swallowed hard, knowing so frighteningly clear that only Jack had the way out, a key somewhere on his person. It terrified her. She wondered if this was how Lily had felt. She felt herself shrinking as he approached her again. She screamed out for Chuck as she pounded on the door, kicking into the wood and wincing in pain when her sharp heel did nothing but cause pain in her toes. The knob still did not turn, no matter how she cried for it too. Time passed like an endless ticking bomb, so fast and yet in exact real time. When she felt his hand closing around her arm again though, the room buzzed around her, blurred into just his face. He pushed her roughly up against the wall, pinning his body to her so she could not move, placing his hand tightly across her mouth again, so much so that if she didn't want to breathe through her nose she would not be able to breathe at all.

Muffled noises came from her mouth, but it was indecipherable. He smiled wickedly as he looked down between them then. She closed her eyes tightly and cried, completely surrendering to the fact that she could not get away. She tried to keep her legs shut at the knees, but his power was too great. One of his strong legs, easily pushed aside her resistance, charging through until it was up against her mound. She cried harder, just wanting it to be over. She was shaking now, having completely given up any possibility of escaping. She had tried everything.

"Hush, Blair," he whispered in her ear, pausing on his way to pull up her skirt. He paused long enough to see her frightened eyes open to his, tears pulsing out onto her already damp cheeks like wildfire. "You liked it before."

He smiled, returning to his task. He was nearly to the edge of her skirt when he heard loud footsteps coming down the hall. He decided to ignore them, but then there was even louder pounding on the door. He looked up and waited, hoping whoever had been idiot enough to stumble upon his location would soon realize that there was no one inside.

But they didn't.

"Mr. Bass!" the voice called. Jack said nothing. "Mr. Bass!" he called again, pounding several more times on the door. "Your secretary told me you were putting some things away in here. You have an urgent phone call. She insists that you take it."

Jack looked back at Blair, who, while still very scared, looked to be a little relieved. He sighed and reluctantly released her. He zipped up his pants and rebuckled his belt, heading towards the door.

"Mr. Bass? Please—"

"I'm coming, George," he said, recalling the man's name. He opened the door then, looking nearly as cleaned up as when he'd first entered the room.

"Sir—" George paused. He was drawn almost instantly to the shaking Blair in too shock still to even be straightening out her clothes. With some great effort of willpower and need to gain back her strength, she managed to make it to the chair.

"George."

The man shook his head and looked back at his boss. "Sir, what is wrong with that girl?" he asked, clearly wanting to insinuate something he knew would cost him his job. Jack only smiled with the cockiness that told George loud and clear that he knew loud and clear what he was thinking and that it was the last thing he wanted to bring up. The look also partially showed that he didn't have the slightest idea what he was referring to, and for that shattering second reason he kept his mouth closed.

He cleared his throat and held out a slip of paper. "He knows," he said.

Jack looked up at him after he'd glanced at the small note. "I'm sorry?"

George licked his lips. "He knows. The man that's on the phone said he knows everything."

Jack scoffed. "You're delusional, George," he said, gripping his collarbone firmly. "And once more, I haven't the slightest idea of whatever it is you're referring to."

He took a deep breath. "Sir, please, I don't know what's going on here, or—" he looked once at Blair, still trembling. "In there, but I can tell you this is very serious. I wouldn't have gone to find you if it wasn't."

Jack contemplated him for a long time, but then finally nodded. "Alright, George. I'll go see what all the fuss is about." He winked once and retreated down the hall, not saying a single word about the girl he'd left in the room.

The man rushed into the room the second his boss had disappeared behind the first corner. He took Blair's arms in his hands, but she withdrew sharply, her being unnaturally quiet.

"Miss." She didn't respond. "Miss, are you alright?" She said nothing but the kindness in his voice must have finally registered. She looked up at him slowly and then burst into tears, falling against his chest. He held her to him.

"No," she wailed, clutching at him now as a life support. "Get me out of here," she begged, her very voice shivering as her bottom lip quivered. She could feel him nod against her.

"It's alright, miss. I'll get you out of here." He picked her up and cradled her in his arms. When they reached the hallway he set her down briefly and pulled out a small phone. "Brian," he spoke coarsely into the receiver, breathing heavy. "Things have gotten out of hand." He turned to look at the shaking Blair bracing herself against the wall. "We've got to get these kids out of here."

…

A/N: Omg. That was SO intense. *attempting to breathe* Review, please? ;p


	13. Come Home to Me

A/N: I suck. Enjoy & review! ;p

*I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended.

…

**Ch.13—Come Home to Me**

He turned and looked at her, smirking and tossing a wink her way. Serena flushed and looked away. Nate's face hardened, but Carter seemed oblivious. He just continued to smile at the blonde beauty and then finally turned back to where he'd been looking before when the receiver finally picked up.

"Hello? You've reached Mr. Bass of Bass Australia. Can I help you?"

Carter could almost appreciate the cocky arrogance in his voice.

"You sound almost as freshly exuberant as your secretary, Mr. Bass. Unfortunately, I don't think I can be quite as nice in return."

Jack's brows furrowed. "Who is this?" he asked, keeping the demanding tone of his voice as polite-sounding as possible.

"Carter Baizen, at your service." He smiled cheekily. Serena's eyes widened behind him, worried that giving his exact identity away would somehow give Jack the upper hand. She could feel a slight chill covering her arms and legs. Nate seemed so far away behind her, but she figured it would be very little-girlish of her to go run to him just because she was afraid of the edge they held to be disintegrated in a heartbeat, and if she was being honest, for Carter's safety too.

Jack found himself focusing very intensely at the pencils and empty business slips sitting on his desk. He wished there was someone nearby for him to yell or glare at, but there wasn't anybody. It was just himself and the various pieces of furniture placed throughout his office. He wondered where Elizabeth was.

Then, he thought of Blair. He'd left her all alone in that room, after he'd almost… _raped_ her. It was payback, he'd thought in the moment. He hadn't been able to truly take his vengeance out on Chuck or Lily, and since Blair had initially come on to him the year before – despite what she had probably told Chuck – he was only returning the favor. He only wished his dear nephew had been there to see it.

He pulled himself together, refusing to let his mind wander, even if it was just to indulge in how Chuck might suffer because of anything he did. At this junction, Blair had probably found her way back to him and was confessing what had happened. Chuck would be mad, and then Jack would torture him further. He hadn't concocted a perfect plan yet, but it had been well on its way until that idiot _George_ had insisted he answer a meager phone call. More than anything, he felt like he was wasting him time. There was no way this 'Carter Baizen' knew anything whatsoever about what was going on. Even Chuck wasn't entirely aware of the situation. He didn't think so at least.

"Well, Mr. Baizen, what can I do for you?"

His voice was cool now, constant. He had retreated back into his well known exterior. No one ever knew when Jack Bass was at his limit until he had been outwitted, and since that hardly ever occurred, there was no need to let anything but his cocky demeanor show.

"I know everything."

Jack rolled his eyes and circled the desk. This kid was an amateur. He probably had little to no direct relation to Chuck and he was making estimates based on false evidence no doubt. Jack felt even more in control. Any doubt, anger or fear completely evaporated, leaving him feeling just about as smug as he felt when Evelyn insisted on sleeping on the couch just so she wouldn't be so near to him. _With good reason_, he thought, giving her some credit. She knew he'd try to seduce her.

"What exactly is it that you think you know?" he asked, a hearty scoff slipping through.

Carter smiled on the other end, relishing the moment.

Both Nate and Serena felt uneasy when they saw the twinkle in his eyes. The sun shone in through the window, brightening his face, but the slate blue color of his eyes remained clear.

"Do the names _Amanda Grey_ and _Samuel Corduran_ ring a bell?" Carter asked evenly.

Jack paled briefly, but pulled himself together again quickly. There was no way this nobody could know so much about his cleverly thought out plan. He had certainly researched well enough to know some of the people involved, and the most dangerous people at that, but he couldn't possibly know the extent of what Jack had schemed.

"Should they?" he asked.

Carter's face shifted to pure amusement. "It's not just that they _should_, it's that they _do_. Don't make me give away the rest of your plan, Jack," he said mockingly in a quite upbeat tone, "I fear it would ruin it for the children."

Jack's jaw clenched. He kept his mouth shut for the fear that he would let some sort of frustration slip through the receiving end of the line and then this _Carter_ would know he'd won.

Carter sighed in apparent impatience. He didn't look at Nate and Serena, but instead appeared to be completely fascinated by the setting sun decorating the city with its reflection from one building to the next.

"I'll tell you what, let me inform you of my recently accumulated knowledge and then you can sit there and wonder about what I'm going to do next."

Jack opened his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed angrily. His hand tightened on the phone and his teeth silently ground against each other. Somehow though, he could not open his mouth to speak.

Carter smiled. "You've got Chuck and Blair. You don't technically have them kidnapped, but I'm pretty sure a judge will see it that way. You're desperate to get Bass Industries – all of it – and you will stop at nothing, not even having the threat of underground drug dealers and gangsters nearby to threaten potential harm on someone that Chuck and Blair might consider valuable, themselves included, to make sure you get this company back. You've even managed to persuade all your colleagues and employees to participate in the effort to get Chuck and Blair to stay put. I'm guessing a large sum of money was all it took." He paused, waiting to see if Jack would respond in any way, volatile or otherwise. He doubted he'd confess to any of the spoken crimes. "Did I leave anything out?"

For the first time since the names _Amanda Grey_ and _Samuel Corduran_ had been spoken, Jack's face slipped into a relieved smile. Carter, it appeared, was very good at finding information. He had however, left out one very important detail, the heart of it all.

"Not a thing."

The fuzzy silence on the opposite end was soon greeted by the annoying repetitive dial tone. Carter closed his phone, suddenly feeling very uneasy. Jack hanging up on him was hardly what made him feel on edge, and the confidence in his voice didn't do it either. Still, he felt on edge, chilled.

"What is it?" Serena asked, standing up from where she sat to look at Carter with worried eyes. Both heat and extreme cold seemed to flash through her at the sight of him looking so weary and unnerved. She felt Nate shift uncomfortably a ways behind her and knew that he was thinking the exact same thing.

When she was within three feet of him, Carter lifted his head. Then, it was as if he had never shown his emotions to begin with. A smile followed by pure determinate settled onto his face.

"I'm going to Australia," he informed her, moving past her gawking form.

"What?"

Nate's brows furrowed in shock and alarm. He'd been halfway to his feet, but now he was fully there and following Carter as he walked towards the elevator. He couldn't divide his mind up enough to get jealous over Serena being so close to Carter and actually reaching out to pull him back to them.

Carter blew out a large breath and turned to face them just before Serena's hand caught his arm. He pursed his lips and studied them both with a fixed, serious stare.

"There's something going on here that we don't know about, and we're only going to figure it out if we go there and search it out ourselves. Well, _I'll_ only figure it out," he emphasized.

The ding of the elevator went off and he turned towards the opening doors, turning back for one more instant.

"Don't get all warm and fuzzy on me about this either. I still hate Chuck, but I wouldn't wish this on anyone." He paused and turned to Serena, cocky smile back in place. "And because you asked me so nicely."

"_Wait!_" Serena's hand grabbed hold of his jacket sleeve.

Carter paused, looked at where her hand had caught him and then looked into her face, waiting for what she had to say.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

He could tell by the look in her spectacular blue eyes that there would be no dissuading her. He also knew that Nate didn't trust her enough around him to let her go alone with the infamous Carter Baizen.

"_Serena_…"

Carter scoffed inwardly at Nate's pathetic attempt. He clearly did not know the blonde girl very well. Still, there was a bond and a respect between them, he noticed. Serena's hand lessened its grip on his arm as she turned her head to look at her boyfriend's pleading face.

"It's _Chuck_, Nate," she reasoned. "And I'm worried about Blair."

Nate searched her face for some sort of weak point that would change her mind but found none. He nodded once.

Serena turned back to Carter, confident in her decision. She then realized she was still holding onto him and dropped her hand back to her side.

Carter glanced over at Nate. "I'm guessing you're coming too, Archibald?"

Nate gave him a blank no-nonsense look.

"Right."

Carter pressed the elevator button again and the doors opened again instantly.

"Let's go then," he said.

…

"Blair?"

Anyone but her. Why couldn't it have been someone else? Not _him_. But someone else. She'd rather be left alone than confronted by this Elizabeth. Where was Chuck? And where had this 'George' run off to? She felt like she was caged up in that nearly empty hallway. The last thing she needed was someone she detested. Before she might have been annoyed by Chuck's mother/Jack's lover finding her. Now she was disgusted and almost scared of her. All she wanted was to be alone or to be in Chuck's arms. _Where was he? Where was Chuck? Was he looking for her?_

Blair twitched and slowly lifted her face to look into Elizabeth's concerned eyes. Inwardly she scoffed. She wanted no more of this fake concern. Pity was it was, and she wanted to spit on her for how much of a traitor she'd become. Maybe she'd been one all along. She had no proof, but still Blair decided to believe Elizabeth had intentionally caught Chuck's eye and somehow gotten him to chase after her. How else was this even _possible_?

She didn't say a word, just looked at her.

Elizabeth hesitantly took another step towards her. "Blair, are you alright? What are you doing all the way over here?" She stopped stalk still when she finally saw Blair in the light. Her hair was disheveled, along with her clothes. She was shaking and her eyes shone nothing other than bitter hopelessness. Her spirit looked crushed.

"Did something happen?" she breathed.

Blair looked away.

"What are you—" She shook herself of the spell Blair's appearance had put on her. The girl had obviously just run off, escaped the security guards no doubt. Maybe one of them had caught her at one point and she'd been lucky enough to escape. "Here," she reached for her, "let me take you back to Chuck. I don't know what happened before. Those guards should have never taken you away. If Jack—"

Blair half-laughed. "_Jack_." She shrugged Elizabeth's tender grasp off her and limped in the direction the older woman had been gesturing towards. It was clear that this _George_ wasn't coming back anytime soon. She wished he had reappeared instead of having to face this deceitful Bass bitch – Fischer now. He was the only kind man she'd come into contact with since she and Chuck had arrived.

The older woman stopped.

Blair kept walking, limping as she went. When it hurt too much to balance on her heels she took them off and carried them in her hand.

That was when Elizabeth caught up. "Blair, tell me what happened."

She shrugged her off again and started walking. She knew she'd explode if she said anything and she was just too weak to put so much energy out in the open so soon after the incident. All she wanted was to be in Chuck's arms. She just wanted him to hold her. So badly she wanted to feel the warmth of his arms, be overcome by the scent of his skin and tuck her head into the crook of his neck. She wanted those words only he could give her murmured into her hair. _Where the hell was he?_

Elizabeth sighed. "Look, I know you might think Jack…"

Blair tried very hard not to dwell on the tangible horror of that name. She kept walking, hoping the woman would finish her half-assed, blinded sentiment and leave her alone.

"Well, obviously he's said some things, threatened you and Chuck even, but…" she paused, contemplating the whole of the situation briefly, "he'd never actually go through with any of it."

Blair stopped suddenly and turned to look at the very certain older woman who still held the despicable sympathy in her eyes. "You have no idea what Jack is capable of," she said coldly.

Elizabeth followed her after one still earth-shattering moment, but only to direct her to where Chuck was. She didn't say another word, and she stopped a room away, just gesturing to the room where Chuck resided in. When Blair's hand easily turned the knob, relief flooded through her. Jack or anybody else had come back and locked it.

"I thought I told you to _stay away_," Chuck growled, hearing the door as it opened. No one responded to him and that somehow fueled his anger further. He whirled around, intent on spewing out more fury on his poor excuse for a mother all over again, but he stopped suddenly when he saw Blair standing in the doorway, looking the worst he'd ever seen her.

"Blair," he breathed, hardly able to comprehend that she was actually _there_. He was frozen to the spot for what felt the longest time. Her single shaky step towards him though, shook him from his reverie. In three quick strides, he was across the room and pulling her into his arms.

"Chuck," she managed through a tear-filled scratchy voice. She hadn't moved, just fallen into his arms, just like she'd imagined. Now, very slowly she moved just enough so he could see she was alive by more than her short, still breaths.

"Blair, what happened? Are you alright? I tried to—" he stopped talking, taking a good look at her and slowly being consumed by worry.

His hands cupped her face, searching her eyes for some sort of sign. She was shaking and she felt too warm. Her expression was weary and her skin was pale. When he guided her to the couch on the far side of the room he noticed how quickly her shoes dropped from her hands and how she limped.

"_Blair_…" His tone was desperate, warning, and beyond worried. He sounded like he'd completely lose it if she didn't immediately tell him what had happened. His hands closed firmly around hers. He brought one of her hands to his lips and kissed the back. His heart broke when she trembled.

"Please tell me what happened," he requested softly, quietly.

Finally, she looked up at him again. She saw the earnest love and desperation in his eyes and knew she had to tell him. She could wait and tell him later, just lie in his arms like she'd yearned to do from the moment Jack had stalked towards her in that horrible abandoned room. But it would eat at Chuck. Even now she did not want to hurt him whatever it cost of herself. She tried her very best to be brave. Swallowing hard, she parted her lips.

"Jack…" she said, just barely getting his name out.

Chuck's hazel eyes grew intense in their color. His grip on her hands tightened.

"He tried to…" her breath caught in her throat. She couldn't do it. She couldn't get the words all the way out. It was too hard, too soon after what had happened. She shook her head and closed her eyes tightly, ramped tears still streaming fiercely down her too warm, too pale cheeks.

Chuck's eyes widened. He was frozen again in shock. The thought was unbearable. Jack had threatened, but the manner in which he'd said it had sounded like a bluff. _He couldn't believe he'd actually attempted_… Anger unfurled in him and he pulled Blair towards him, cradling her shaking form in his arms, holding her tightly against her chest.

Her face nestled into the crook of his neck just like she'd imagined. The smell of him was sweet and 100% Chuck. The gentle words of comfort he whispered in her ears – '_it's okay'_, '_shh, I'm right_ _here'_, '_oh my god, Blair, I'm so sorry_' – put her at ease. His fingers caressing her face and threading themselves through her hair cooled her face. The kiss pressed to her forehead and the return intertwining of their fingers together made her feel safe. She cried until there were no tears left, but she couldn't fall asleep. She wouldn't let herself. She was too afraid she'd see Jack there in some sort of freakish nightmare, and she was scared to death Chuck wouldn't be there when she woke up.

"D-Don't leave me," she barely got out. She swore she heard him curse under his breath. She wrapped her hand around his neck and pulled herself closer to him so she was lying more snugly in his embrace. "Promise?"

His mind was spinning out of control; rage, frustration, heartbreak, and the inability to fix any of it consumed him, but still he nodded. "I swear I won't leave you, Blair. I'm going to be right next to you forever. It'll be just us."

She pulled away slightly and looked up into his worry-stricken eyes. She leaned into him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. The memory of Jack trying to force himself on her leaped into her mind and she withdrew suddenly. His wide eyes pained her to look into. To kiss him should have soothed her. She should have wanted to lose herself in that kiss, but all it did was remind her of how violent Jack had been and how scared she'd been, how very near death it had felt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, averting her eyes. "I…can't."

Chuck wanted to kill him. He had never hated someone as intensely as he did now. He had never wanted to kill a soul until now. No, Jack had no soul. He was the Devil through and through, and he had tried to…

"It's okay," he whispered, easing her back into his embrace. She did not resist.

"I don't want to be here, Chuck," she whimpered against him.

His entire body went rigid, clenched with overwhelming hatred and the need to get out, to keep Blair safe. More uncontrollable than his hatred for his uncle though was his own guilt in being unable to keep Blair safe. He couldn't think about that now when his demeanor might somehow alarm her, but he knew that the knowledge would haunt him forever.

"We'll get out," he said, sounding more certain than he felt. He stroked her hair softly to distract himself and held her hand splayed across his chest.

Blair didn't ask how. She knew he didn't know. It was too hard now to think about what all of that meant. The only hope she had was that the man that had rescued her could somehow help them get out of there. His words couldn't have been for nothing.

_"Things have gotten out of hand. We've got to get these kids out of here."_

She wished he hadn't left. She wished none of this had happened. She almost wished she'd never encouraged Chuck to visit his father's grave, to get him past the haunted memory of his father's death. But she couldn't wish that entirely. Her love for Chuck wouldn't let her. She couldn't complain entirely either. She was in Chuck's arms again, and it wasn't a dream. He still loved her, and he wouldn't leave, not if he could help it. She trusted that, even if it was becoming hard to do. So much was out of their control. She would have given anything for this real-life nightmare would end.

"I love you," he whispered into her hair.

Another wave of security rushed over and through her. She snuggled closer and tightened her grip on the fabric of his shirt.

"I love you," she gasped, sniffles coming anew.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said, letting her feel the strength and safety of his arms around her. "I'm never leaving you again," he said, all choked up.

She sighed shakily against him and murmured, "Okay."

…

A/N: Please review? I'll try to be better about finishing this up…*guilty*


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